Appearances
by Mardigny
Summary: Usually, work functions are nothing but boring or annoying for Seto Kaiba. This one, however, just may turn out somewhat differently. My second Fr./Eng. translation; original is "Apparences" by Melzart. Rated M for explicit adult content. SKxOC
1. Chapter 1

Hey, it's my second French English translation! This one's a heck of a lot longer, so don't be expecting those once-every-two-day updates I did for Target. The original story is Apparences, by Melzart, and as usual, if you can read French, read that one, simply because the tone and author's intent haven't been butchered. Heheh. This one is SK x OC of Melzart's creation.

I own neither Yu-Gi-Oh nor the story itself.

Merry belated Xmas, Happy Boxing Day to the Canadians, and happy belated birthday to Marik Ishtar.

~ Mardigny

* * *

**Appearances**

_by Melzart_

**. . . **

Chapter 1

_First Evening_

. . .

**1. **

The evening promised to be painful, long, and boring. The type of _soiree _where you risk running into more idiots than into anybody half-intelligent. And unfortunately for Seto Kaiba, a _soiree _he couldn't refuse, being the CEO of a multinational company as important as KaibaCorp. You have to know how to have presence.

First, he had attended a gathering between other company leaders in a private hall in this five-star hotel, away from curious eyes. Then, because they all had new contracts to celebrate, the festivities began in the immense reception hall, each man raising a glass – or several – and attempting to corrupt or woo both women and the service of others.

Kaiba didn't regret being this knowledgeable about women and money. This way, he wouldn't have to worry about it all the time. Then again, if it were to come to him to desire a little bit of feminine company, however rarely – and unlike most normal men – he would steer clear, believing it to be nothing but a waste of time and a purely, totally worthless investment.

He already had everything he wanted: glory, fortune, fame, charm, and his little brother he adored so much. A little brother that was becoming as tall as he was, to his great regret.

So, what more could he have wanted?

Kaiba was a young twenty-three year old man, entirely satisfied.

He was only there due to obligation. He hated anything that barely even resembled a 'party'. He had even promised to come back as soon as he could.

All these fakers horrified him – each one leaving their little market-stall to sweet-talk and engender the trust of his victim so that a second later he could have his hand around their throat. They were truly serpents, always coiling around someone.

Kaiba knew that, being the richest and most powerful man in Japan, they were all trying to beat _him_. So, he constantly stayed on his guard, so that he could avoid any very disagreeable surprises.

They had been in the room for barely twenty minutes and already Mr. Kinomoto was creeping under the tables – under dresses, more like – at _least _drunk by the beverages he had consumed at such a frightening pace.

_How pathetic_…

Even though he was the largest distributor of his virtual technology, Kaiba wouldn't have had the slightest remorse in kicking him out of the room himself if he hadn't first thought of the pestilent odor that dumbass must be giving off. Of course, that wasn't his job anyway.

"It's an honor and a pleasure to work with you, Mr. Kaiba," said Shikuru, one of the most influential men in the field of microchips.

_Yeah… an honor and a pleasure… _Kaiba thought, irritated by the words that were devoid of sincerity. _Normal blabber… poor idiot._

Kaiba was ready to start spouting him advice when a singing voice – suave, and very pleasant – rose throughout the room. Though he felt a slight curiosity, perfectly naturally, to find where it came from, he stopped himself, not wanting to give it any real attention.

He understood that a small, improvised concert had just begun to distract the invitees.

First, the voices in the hall had quieted; then, there were several murmurs. Then nothing; then a noise, as if time itself had stopped. They all seemed to be dumbstruck by the artist who was gently singing, all seemed to be hypnotized.

Before the stunning silence – that Kaiba only really noticed a few moments later – he had, despite himself, let his eyes roam towards the object of their fascination. Even Shikuru had turned his back so quickly that Kaiba didn't have any other choice but to look at the stage, stupefied by the sudden lack of respect. But at the very last second, even though he had already opened his mouth, he stopped himself from yelling his discontent.

Ants. Hundreds of ants seem to run across his body in a fraction of a second and made him give himself a discreet once-over. There weren't any. His common sense quickly brought him back to reason; it was static inside his clothes. He just simply hadn't noticed it before, because he was too busy watching his back during the evening.

Or maybe somebody opened a door, or maybe several, if he believed the tingling sensation wrapping over his skin. This quick glance around him, however, brought him to realize the presence of a woman that, lurking in a shadowy corner a little ways already, had been watching him for quite some time.

She had used his lack of vigilance to move ever closer to him.

She was tall, blonde, and extremely coquettish, in a bright red dress which left the top quarter of her quite curvaceous chest exposed. Fake, certainly.

And of all the men at the party, Kaiba had to doubtless be the most interesting amongst them, if not the most seductive. He knew how to please women even though he never saw any real interest in doing it.

"Good evening, Mr. Kaiba…"

She left her words trail behind her languorously, suggesting the possibility of an interesting time.

Taken with disdain, he didn't even take the liberty to respond to her, but didn't miss the chance to shoot her a haughty glance.

_Shikuru's pet strumpet._

Of course, he already knew what she wanted. He was certain: this woman must have already had the majority of men in Japan in her bed. It was an open secret, and seeing her allure confirmed the rumor for him.

"The _soiree _has been a blast, don't you think?" she asked.

Kaiba ignored her and paid more attention to the mysterious silence still reining throughout the room.

Strange. Quite strange.

Nobody was watching him. As if he didn't exist anymore. Like he disappeared.

It had been quite a long time since he had gotten such an impression – the strange sensation of not stressing over a public devoted to his smallest caprices, his slightest reactions. Not that he wanted to complain about it. On the contrary. But it was certainly out of the ordinary.

Once more, his gaze moved to the crowd, and again towards the stage.

_What's- _

Mrs. Shikuru was straining from the indifferent attitude.

"Ah, that… little… minx," she breathed through her teeth, quiet enough so that Kaiba couldn't hear her.

The singer didn't have beauty that was aesthetically conventional, no pronounced makeup – he would even swear that she wasn't wearing any at all because it was so light. Pretty dark brown hair tumbled around her shoulders and to the middle of her back, and her eyes, ebony-black, fell over her audience. She was clothed in a somber yet very simple dress that hugged her body very slightly. Nothing exaggerated, overall. Nor anything provocative. But she in her entirety – and Kaiba was intimately persuaded that this was a part of her charm – showed both simplicity as well as beauty.

Her face, the traits of her body, left no significant impression. But despite the commonality of her pretty face, and even though she would pass by completely unseen in a crowd, everyone could remember her ten years later, including himself.

Then there was the voice – so soft, so… sensual.. that he normally would have loathed to listen to under the pretext that it was too 'fluffy'*, fascinated his ears, used to only hearing tears, shouting, and long speeches.

It would only have taken a short time before he, the great Seto Kaiba, would have felt his own heart melt if his extraordinary self-control and cold logic hadn't hurried to reel him back in at the last second to bring him back to reality.

Yet there was something in this creature he had never had the occasion to feel elsewhere, something special enough that the great Seto Kaiba allowed himself to pay attention to her for a long moment.

He had, of course, heard the hint of aggression in Mrs. Shikuru's voice but he had deliberately ignored it, even though a small part of him hated hearing her insult the young woman. Maybe because she couldn't defend herself? He therefore stayed silent, and closed his eyes.

However, she wasn't content, determined to chase the image of the miserable singing creature from Kaiba's beautiful attention. Cleverly enough, she wanted to discourage him from continuing his visual investigation.

"…It seems…" she began in a lightly contemptuous tone.

_It seems? _Kaiba mocked her silently, waiting.

"Well," she said, "you could say _she's _a… man-eater."

Kaiba was seized by a burst of anger, but he swiftly disposed of it.

It was stronger than he was, though: he had to and would put it in its place. It wasn't because she had the audacity to insult a woman so exquisite that she couldn't dream of becoming her in a thousand years; but it was because she dared to paint her own weaknesses on others without ever assuming his own. And that irritated Kaiba most horribly. Especially since this rookie would never have the class of this simple artist, despite however many millions her husband made.

With all his authority, he stared her directly in the eye, voiced edged derisively.

"Excuse me?"

His left eyebrow rose, denoting his major annoyance, the feeling that was preying on him.

Apparently, she didn't make the connection. At least, she didn't pay attention to it.

_Pssht. Completely stupid, _thought Kaiba.

"There's really too many people here," she said again. "We could maybe…"

He was stricken with fear. This was too much.

This time, he recoiled from the sole thought of finding himself in the same room as her.

"Don't even think about it," he said dryly as he turned on his heels, leaving her standing stupidly in the middle of the room as he went to sit an empty corner a nice distance away.

_What a bitch!_

Again, his eyes moved towards the stage.

_But she… but… she…_

Kaiba couldn't stop a tiny smile from gliding over his lips, overwhelmed by a sudden and very violent desire, even though such desire never took control of him, his head never leaving control of the rest of his body.

Of course he had already squelched his primitive instincts. He was ready for several relapses, enough to experience and try to understand what the most common of mortal men could do about feeling a most superficial of pleasures. But never had any interest been able to break through the wall to his heart.

Love was nothing but a word long banned from his dictionary. Totally non-existent in his career plans. A stupid word. Completely absurd.

He surprised himself, crippled by the inability to control his emotions in front of this simple woman, as ravishing as she was. But his mind first lost itself in the curiosity of its wrongdoing, its highly abnormal behavior on his part.

He couldn't grasp whatever the source was for such a strong and collective infatuation for her.

Of course, she sung sublimely.

Of course, she was magnificently beautiful; nobody, not even he, could irreverently deny that.

Yet, almost disdainfully, he was forced to stop his reminiscing.

There was, after all, absolutely no reason to do so.

Again, his attention was called by Mr. Kinomoto, several seconds later.

He continued his advances on the same artist who was just leaving the stage.

"I would love to know you better, my dear… you're so seductive," he told her, without restraint.

She didn't even blush at his words. She was visibly indifferent, entirely occupied with trying to find a way to an exit. But she kept a courtly politeness despite her impatience which seemed to be slowly winning her over.

"Mr. Kinomoto, thank you again, but my response is and always will be no," she told him.

_For a man-eater, she certainly isn't good at it,_ Kaiba thought, lightly amused by the scene. Daring to shoot down the second richest man in Japan was no small matter. And she… allowed herself to do so. Was she forgetting all the advantages that she would come to know?

Once more, an odd feeling seized Kaiba, and he stood from the table rather mechanically, still keeping his blue eyes trained in their direction. He was having fun in the beginning, but now Kinomot's insistence was beginning to irritate him.

Almost frenetic, Kinomoto had seized the singer's wrist and her expression had gone blank. Only Kaiba noticed a particular nuance on the woman's face. A shade of somber red colored her cheeks.

He would swear that it wasn't annoyance, but rather hidden anger.

"Mr. Kinomoto. Please release me. That's enough," she warned him.

Curiously, Kaiba fought to not intervene, becoming almost furious. He didn't understand very well what pushed him to want to intervene and protect her. Maybe he understood that he would be the only being in attendance who could allow himself to replace that frisky man?

_No._

He stayed locked in place, still not understanding exactly what was running through his head. But Kinomoto's gestures angered him to the highest degree.

"What if I don't?" laughed Kinomoto, daring her to rid of him.

_What?_

Around her she had built a wall so sturdy that even Kaiba noticed a strange feeling of force and power near her.

"If you don't… I am going to make you swallow your wine glass," she breathed as a last warning, with more than just a trace of menace.

Thunder seemed to spark up from behind her magnificent black eyes, and it promised to fly out of her without warning.

Kinomoto started suddenly, releasing his grip and wondering whether she was playing with him or not.

A long, icy shiver even made its way through Kaiba's vertical column.

_Nerves of steel… interesting._

More than ever, he asked himself if he should intervene. But again his feet stayed nailed to the floor.

Finally, peace returned to haunt him when he saw her leave the room, alone, leaving Kinomoto stupefied behind.

A long moment played out before Kaiba also decided to make his departure.

"Yes, sir?" asked a man who leaned in upon Kaiba's gesture.

"Call up the limousine out back."

**2. **

Kaiba preferred, as it were, to avoid all the potential paparazzi at the main entrance to the hotel. He allowed himself to move outside, where the chauffeur opened the door for him.

He was about to clamber inside when six men, surging out of nowhere, fell upon his two bodyguards, under his very eyes, and didn't have time to defend themselves due to the rapidity of the attack.

One of them forced Kaiba to freeze, under threat of his revolver, while the others managed to stun his guards as well as the chauffeur, leaving him completely alone.

A growl of anger went all the way up past his lips.

**3.**

Just like every evening, she took the back door, the one that directly into the alleyway, but stopped once she saw the scene that was taking place.

A tall man in a night-blue coat was encircled by thugs. He seemed to be looking for an outlet, but ready to get into combat. Despite the excitement visible on the faces of the assailants that surrounded him, he stayed absolutely calm.

When the door opened, one of them noticed her presence.

"Hey, sweet-cheeks! Turn the other way!" one of the men said, his voice threatening.

But she didn't move right away; she was watching the spectacle.

Caught in a trap, Kaiba leaped on one of them, knocking him out with a punch, followed by a second man, who rose up in rage. Kaiba swiftly dodged the blows even though they seemed to be pouring in from everywhere. He was doing well, sporting the agility of a cat.

"Hey, you deaf?" cried another man, addressing the young woman. "I told you to get lost! So scram!"

She stayed unresponsive; worse yet, she didn't even look at him as if she had either not heard him or he hadn't been speaking to her. All of her focus seemed diverted exclusively on the combat at hand. Or moreover on the combatant in the middle.

Fascinated, she seemed to be waiting. Like she wanted to see how it would turn out, persuaded that he could even get out without any help. He was so seductive. Irresistible, in fact. And even thought it wasn't the right time to think about it, she couldn't get rid of that almost supernatural aura. There was something about him so strong and powerful that she couldn't detach her gaze without some difficulty.

_Lionheart_

A charmed smile flew over her lips.

"Remember, guys, we need him alive… but don't avoid prettying him up a bit," said again another man whose laugh was like a skunk's.

The fight raged onward. Another thug arrived and blended into the portion in front of Kaiba, who despite apparent disadvantage, kept on battling. Not one of them managed to knock him to the ground.

_Grr… what's she waiting for before she goes and gets help? _he asked himself as he saw, just barely, the shadow of the silhouette of the young woman, who still hadn't moved a muscle.

But he continued to duke it out, sending them sprawling on the asphalt, even if they obstinately got right back up almost immediately afterwards.

It was then that one of the assailants, strongly vexed by the undesirable presence of the woman, this time decided to leave Kaiba to go and take care of her.

She foresaw the brute's motion and started slightly at the thought, but he wasn't in a position to run and 'defend' her, already finding himself too occupied with his own survival.

Decidedly the truant burst out, raising his arms as if readying to carry her.

"I told you- " he screamed.

But his voice died the moment his body met the pavement.

Two of his coworkers, bothered by his fall, turned around.

She gave the impression, quite wisely, to have not even raised her pinky finger, her glance still fixed on Kaiba's combat. But they were convinced she had done something. And anger rose inside them, already frustrated from having so much trouble taking Kaiba alone.

Only this time, she didn't give them time to ask any questions, voluntarily engaging herself to meet them with both a disconcerting calm and the grace of a ballerina who put each foot on the floor as if walking through a field of flowers while never crushing a single one.

Kaiba didn't quite understand what was going on behind his back, but he was relieved to have been deprived of several of his adversaries.

"So, you wanna play with the big boys, my dear? Well, let's play. And if I have time… I'll have a party with you…" **

Kaiba clearly heard the allusion, and it was far from pleasing to him.

_What? Grr… I don't have time to worry about her as well… _

Both of them were now stuck.

To make sure she wasn't hurt, he would first have to shake off his own foes, and that was no small task.

At any moment he was expecting a cry of terror. It didn't come.

The young woman stared at the guy, totally insensible to his remark, stopping herself close to Kaiba. He still didn't see her, as he was still knocking away anything in front of him or anything that tried to touch him.

The man went to grab her but she dodged him speedily, whipping around to strike first in the stomach, next in the temple. He then collapsed.

The third man, furious by this affront, stormed forward.

Kaiba finally noticed, with a rapid glance, the intruder's silhouette end her second knockout.

That explained why no sound escaped her, and also why she had never gone to find help as he had wished earlier. He was more relieved than surprised.

The shadow moved with great agility and speed, both blocking and dishing out blows with a force he never could have suspected could come from a body that small. And her power was matched only by her precision.

He then shoved away an adversary who came to land in a heap at the feet of the young woman. He grew worried, for a fraction of a second; he was quickly reassured when he saw her gracefully leap into the air, avoiding the impact and conserving her equilibrium as if she had merely stepped over a hole in the floor.

_Formidable._

But as if she had known by instinct that he would try to take hold of her ankle, she swung around, brutally slamming her foot into his face, and knocking his head onto the ground.

There were now only two remaining thugs trying to latch on to Kaiba; two thugs that slowed down when they saw that they were the last of the troop to still be in action.

The young woman, still looking peaceful, was now watching them with a mixture of amusement and curiosity.

Then, she decided to move slowly towards them.

The only thing about her that allowed them to understand she wasn't inoffensive were her eyes.

In a final attempt, one of them let go of Kaiba to thrust his fist at her several times, all of which she avoided with the slightest effort, saving her energy and not fighting back indiscriminately. She knew the strategic points on the human body, and the effectiveness she demonstrated while not hitting the man once proved it once more.

Already done, she turned to leave without a second glance when Kaiba stopped fighting the last thug.

Quickly, he took a quick look around to make sure there was nobody else, when he saw one of them moving closer towards her.

He was worried she wouldn't have a chance to see him and even opened his mouth to warn her-

_Behind you-!_

But as if she had known, or guessed, her arm quickly rose into the air. She slammed her elbow into the man's stomach as he ran into her, then, her fist came up against his face, twice.

He didn't get up.

Still, as if nothing had happened, she continued to make her leave from the scene.

Kaiba's face was contorted into a smile both awed and admiring. He assured himself she wouldn't see it.

"Wait!" He ordered at her.

She seemed to hesitate at turning around, but she immediately stopped at his demand.

Finally, she turned. And that was the shock.

Pretty little braids covered her head. You could say she was a Chinese porcelain doll – just as pretty, and appearing just as fragile. He didn't underestimate her now, though. But that wasn't what made Kaiba jump or what delighted him the most. She barely looked at him before leaving for good. What surprised him took residence in the similarity of the features of her face.

He stayed there, astounded, while she grew more and more distant, unable to say a word. But on his face was a small line, a charmed smile.

_Hm… very…. interesting._

**4.**

_Strange, I think I've already seen him somewhere before… he was probably at the soiree, I'll bet. That has to be it. Truly so… seductive._

In a snap she flung the thoughts that had made her blush for that short instant far away; but the smile that had lingered on his lips took time to disappear.

**5.**

_No. It can't be. That woman…_

Kaiba's limousine was moving towards his mansion.

The journey left him sufficient time to see the events again in his memory.

But how could he forget that face?

A smile filled with malice covered his own, accompanied with a look of defiance.

With a brusque gesture, he took out his cell phone.

"Seto Kaiba."

"Yes, sir. What can I do for you?" hastened to offer an employee of the hotel he had just left.

"Tell me," said Kaiba, "tonight, at the reception, there was a woman, a singer to distract the- "

"Oh! Yes, sir, I dare to hope you appreciated her…"

But Kaiba wasn't interested in a long discussion.

"Her name?"

"Oh!" cried the employee, tickled by his interest. "Her name is Naomi, sir, it's her stage name. She- "

"When does she work again?"

"Uh…. tomorrow night, sir, at nine P.M. We're delighted- "

"Good."

He hung up before the poor man even had time to finish his sentence.

He was going to put a small obstacle in his private life. A little "detour" from his busy schedule.

"Naomi," he breathed, enchanted, as if he was being introduced to her.

_Really… very… very interesting._

**6.**

He didn't waste any time poring over his records to affix his signature here and there and give several passing orders. This foreigner piqued his curiosity most distractedly. Moreover: it seemed to him, suddenly, that it would be nice to tame such a wild beast. To master this infuriating shadow.

A true challenge for a being as ambitious as he was. For what express purpose he wasn't entirely sure. But he was going to collect some hunting trophies if need be.

And the hunt had begun.

Knocks on the door drew him from his thoughts.

"Come in!"

A man wearing a tie walked in, file in hand.

"What you asked for, sir."

Kaiba roughly opened it.

"It's not complete," he reprimanded him.

"No. I know, sir. But we're trying to get in touch with the authorities of her country of origin. It shouldn't take long, sir."

Kaiba gave him a very dark look, quite unsatisfied.

"Make it quick."

But what was he expecting?

That he could open a folder and find a person's entire private life? Without any respect for their intimacy?

It wouldn't be the first time.

Besides, wasn't he the great Seto Kaiba? The one who could get away with… anything?

* * *

* Original French: _qu'elle tombait trop dans le guimauve_, 'that she fell too often into the marshmallow'. Probably either a French or Canadian slang term; as an American I don't really know. (Help?)

** Original French: _on te ferai la fete_, which is hard to anglicize but is literally 'we'll do you a party' (as if party were a verb.) Pretty sure this is a way of saying he'll rape her.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2 of Appearances!

*Gasps, rubs fingers*

I typed too much today. Officially. (This is what I get for translating something so long so fast.)

This story doesn't go with the formatting of the previous section (actually, it didn't have any at all), so I added a small [ ... ] where I thought it appropriate.

Like normal, I'm reminding you that I didn't write this story, I only translated it, and it belongs to both Kazuki Takashi (Yu-Gi-Oh!) and Melzart (the story itself.)

I'm not sure if keeping it rated 'T' is a good idea... it should go up to M at this rate, especially if I believe original author comments warning readers about chapter four. What do you think?

Thanks to **Comicker **and **fantasyguardian **for the reviews, and of course to **Melzart**!

* * *

**Appearances**

_by Melzart_

**. . . **

Chapter 2

_A Question of Identity_

…

_Oh, that guy from yesterday, I think… crazy as he is…_

Curiously, despite the lights blinding her and not allowing her to distinguish, except with some difficulty, the shadows that were her audience, she detected Kaiba with an immediate glance, as if she had been attracted by a magnet.

He had certainly made quite the discrete entry, sure, but she had noticed him. Naomi was beginning a song by Evanescence, in English, that she seemed to have perfectly mastered.*

Still as ravishing, she was again dressed in black from head to toe. And he thought that that color worked superbly well on her, showing off her pretty silhouette quite explicitly and with detailed precision. A silhouette that interestingly did not leave Kaiba an apathetic slab of marble. He was surprised by this. Yet nothing was missing to please him – seduction had finally found its example in his large dictionary.

She wasn't very tall if he compared her to himself. But he wasn't that fooled, as he knew that she could complete with any guy on the planet.

_I could definitely make her my bodyguard_, he thought, smiling maliciously. Because the exact image of "bodyguard" that crossed his mind had made him instantaneously blush.

_What am I thinking?_

Even though he had always considered the opposite sex to be at a level slightly weaker than his own, and dreadfully boring, he still felt a certain shame at treating her with such little respect. So he chose once more to wipe away the senseless thought.

_Does she… see me?_

She seemed to be speaking to him, even though he believed himself to be camouflaged into the back of the room. Kaiba was of the opinion that, if so, she had to have more than perfect vision. Because if she so easily offered herself to the view of everybody present, lit up at center stage with projector-lights, he didn't understand how it could be that she could see between the spectators, most of which who would be plunged in obscurity.

Besides, why him, amongst everyone? Did she recognize him?  
And then why was there the impression that she was addressing him with a particular message? As Kaiba, rather gifted in anything remotely related to learning, as with business, had learned English very rapidly, being as it was the principal language of commerce. He didn't have any difficulty clearly understanding what she was singing.

He felt, above all, true emotions, sincere ones maybe too, in the tone of her voice and in her expression. A bit of distress as well.

Was he the only one to notice this? Was it just his imagination?

He left this somber thought, however, adding that it was just a recital and in fact was just doing her job, as a pretext.

Nestling into the black, he patiently watched her song in silence, feasting his eyes and ears on her person, studying her at his leisure.

Then he went up to her room just before she left the stage.

Without even using his talents of persuasion, he managed to bribe one of the hotel's stage-hands to open up Naomi's suite to him.

He could get away with anything, right?

Yet in his eternal confidence, remorse – very brief – ran across his conscience. Remorse that disappeared as rapidly as it had come.

Wisely, taking great care not to touch anything as he wasn't a fetishist – like rummaging through her underwear, for example, even though it tickled his mind – he sat in the little entry hall where he waited for her arrival.

In reality his plan was not to seduce her or to try to corrupt her, although if she were as Mrs. Shikuru had insinuated_ he_ probably wouldn't say no.

But it wasn't really about that.

On a more prudent topic, he preferred to know whom he was dealing with before taking any action that would be taken in the wrong way.

But what was even stranger, and what alarmed him without question, was that kind of attraction, almost unhealthy for him, that he felt for the creature. In fact Kaiba still was probably the most rigid man that exited on the planet, despising making direct contact with another person the majority of the time. He wasn't one who particularly appreciated human touch, as it was indispensible that he keep himself inside his bubble and personal space to him and he didn't allow anyone to penetrate it. Except for Mokuba, of course. But the signs and symbols didn't match up. Neither did the consequences.

Everything inside him staunchly opposed it.

Despite it all, he couldn't deny having a large interest towards this woman. Like it were déjà-vu. A sensation of fever and calm at the same time. Truly odd.

. . .

She didn't immediately see the stranger that was staring at her, sitting in the half-obscure corner. Until she turned on the light. The room was charged with a muscular smell, and the air had become static.

He was tall, with eyes a very deep oceanic blue and with air of a very nice chocolate color. He was wearing black pants and a black shirt, both of which admirably outlined the shape of his slender body. Even seated, a certain haunting allure emanated from him, almost majestic.

More than surprised, she still wasn't surprised by his presence. As if she knew he would be there.

Kaiba too was not surprised by her passivity, already knowing quite well what she was capable of doing. She certainly wouldn't get angry over a guy she could beat up effortlessly.

At least, if it wasn't him.

"What the…?" she babbled, trying to preserve her calm.

…_him?_

"How dare you!" she cried, demanding an explanation, her voice filled with arrogance and anger.

He was neither surprised nor impressed with her menacing tone.

Getting up slowly, he contemplated her with a certain pleasure.

_Oh, how don't I dare, _he told himself, trying to stop himself from smiling.

"I wanted…" he began, without excusing himself.

"Yes, I know. I accept your thanks. Now get out," she cut him off brusquely.

_What? She honestly thinks I came to thank her? Like I needed her help…_

Kaiba seemed to want to chastise her maliciously, frowning slightly as his body wanted to move forward.

"Oh, but I had no intention of thanking you."

Naomi peered at him.

_How rude!_

"Anyway, I'm…"

Suddenly, he decided to lie to her, hoping that she wouldn't recognize him even though that seemed almost impossible. One in a million, surely. He was going to try.

"Kurami… Seto Kurami."

And she didn't really seem to know him, because she kept the same dark and indifferent glare without even batting an eyelash.

_Perfect._

"And you are?" he asked, trying to start a discussion.

Without responding, and while opening the door, she hissed dryly:  
"Not interested."

_What? She dare show me to the door? _Me_?_

Without a doubt, she couldn't really know whom she was speaking to in order to come off so impudently. Shameless, or completely crazy.

Deep inside, he was certain that she would have probably reacted in the same way whether she knew him or not. Especially when the episode involving Mr. Kinomoto came to mind.

That is what, above all else, held back his anger and even made him lightly smile.

"I invite you to dine with me, tomorrow night, at six-thirty," he said, without taking into account the probable refusal and instead thinking it obvious she would obey his every command.

She shook her head, irritated by his overly-saturated flippancy.

"Still not interested," she responded, with so much hostility that Kaiba felt the blood in his veins turn cold.

Silently, without unexpected movements, he approached her until his face was only a few inches away from her own.

_Impossible_, she thought, on alert more than ever. _What an asshole, he's so arrogant._

"Really?" he breathed softly, as if he doubted her response.

His face threatened to touch her own as he moved closer, more implacable than ever.

_He is really quite seductive… no, what am I saying? He's horrible._

She thought he might try to kiss her, but she was more surprised when he touched her, as if he were breathing her, despite all the sweat that ran across his brow.

_Back off, Kaiba, if you continue… you'll… she's so… interesting… back off. What's the matter with me? God, she's so beautiful…_

_ He's gone completely mad… I must smell bad. But other than that… all the better if he rushes outside running…. but he is really, really sexy…_

Kaiba didn't move.

Strangely, she could see a change come over his face, a light smile that was slightly mocking in appearance, as if he had heard her or had the same thought.

_Not so bad… she's…_

Kaiba was suddenly seized by the violent desire to possess her. For a second he believed that she could sense the fever that went up to his temples, and his body grew warmer.

It burned.

"But… I insist…" he murmured, inclining a little bit further in towards her.

_What is she doing to me? I have to get out of here…_

Naomi felt herself a burning desire for this very attractive stranger.

"Get out!" she said, fighting to hide her great confusion.

_It's not that easy, _he thought, delighted that she didn't resemble the monster that Shikuru's bitch had spoken of at all.

This magnificent creature had class.

Which wouldn't fly, without increasing the pleasure he would have from winning her if that would ever become his desire.

At this stage, only curiosity mattered.

_But my beautiful, beautiful Naomi… nobody resists me. You'll see… _

He had been deliberately anonymous, and had thus separated himself from the main advantage he could have used; he could no longer retract it without blowing his cover. But what did it matter to her if he was Kurami or Kaiba?

With much effort, and though he never would have admitted it, he broke off of her and passed into the hallway, keeping his eyes calmly locked on her.

As if he felt that he already had some sort of hold on her, and he was sure of it, he breathed:

"Good night. Sleep tight."

Then he finally turned on his heels to walk away.

Reflexively, Naomi double-bolted the door behind her, turned cold by the casual attitude of that audacious man.

_Danger. Dangerous._

Everything told her he had nothing in common with the most common of mortals. So much force, so much sang-froid… and that perfect self-mastery didn't go unnoticed.

She sighed heavily as if she were just starting to breathe again.

_As long as he doesn't come back… if he does I will not be responsible for my actions._

She let escape a long sigh of relief, but couldn't hold back a timid smile from coming to her lips.

_He _is… _cute._

_ Interesting._

Yet she hadn't bowed down to his will nor to his charm. For a moment, however, she asked herself which one of the two was worth more.

. . .

He thought he would crack, lose his legendary collectiveness. Little had been stopping him from grasping her and throwing her onto the bed. And that had nothing to do with the wish to harm her. Not much more than that could do anything to him. Kaiba wasn't a violent individual. Determined, tenacious, ambitious, and arrogant, certainly. But never had the idea of obliging to a woman been so kindred to his spirit… until now.

Troubled. He was deeply perturbed by these newfound sensations that were racing through his head and body. And he was scared. Strangely scared.

Was he a man to lose his ground?

_But it's just a woman, Kaiba. Like any oth-… No. She isn't like the others. And she rejected me._

_ She doesn't know who you are._

_ That doesn't matter._

_ You're giving yourself ideas._

_ But… wait. She blushed, right? Think, Kaiba. Think… when you got near her… she blushed._

Now that he reflected back on it, with a bit of disgust, he had definitely seen those pretty little cheeks take up a somber rose color. And it was neither anger nor impatience.

"Kaiba," he almost yelled into the receiver of his cell phone. "I want to know every move she makes."

There was a pause.

"Fine, I'll wait."

Then he hung up, with all the certitude of the initiative.

. . .

For almost three years now, Naomi had gotten into the habit of a particular ritual. Ever since she stepped foot in Domino, every year before Christmas, and pushed by compassion – motherly instinct, perhaps – she took an active part in the distribution of presents for the children of the town orphanage. By doing so, she beat the race for toys weeks in advance.

She wasn't, obviously, a millionaire. But she got a sufficient amount to easily spend thousands of dollars. Had that been her only salary, it would have been enough. She had even convinced the hotel to invest a certain percentages of the royalties from the soirees she took part in. In this way everything went beautifully, all for the profit of those poor orphans for whom she had a tender, and very large, affection. It was her entire happiness; the only she could find on Earth. The only that allowed her quench what remained of her humanity; life had too soon been charged to shape who she would become – strong, brave… and too indifferent to appreciate the little joys of living without problems.

Every time she entered that orphanage, all the children would run joyously towards her, completely in love with the being so attentive to them.

But when she left, it was always with that weight in the bottom of her stomach, that she would run into her room for so that she could dump the sadness onto her bed, out of sight of those eyes to which she could never show a single one of her weaknesses.

Her feet had guided her one day into the orphanage as she was walking by. And she couldn't help staring at the children playing in the halls. All those children without anything or anyone in their lives. All those children who only wanted to be loved. Her heart had broken, quite strongly in her chest, at the sole thought that she couldn't do anything for them.

When she thought about it, life had taken from her a bit of her common sense, using the eyes of those children who were all alone in the world. Everything she worked for was just for these occasionally-weekly visits of the utmost importance. A warm appointment that she never missed but that left her, every time, more devastated and helpless than before.

She had tried her hardest to not attach herself to one of them, quite conscious of the fact that with each good-bye it could be the last time she ever saw them, at any time. But that never happened. They always reminded her, though, of that little girl she had profoundly, totally loved.

It was now just for them that she was tender any longer. To her own detriment.

It was her religion. And she accepted it as such, convinced that she deserved the brunt of this unending suffering.

For the oh-so-small new one, Molina, she had developed an excess of affection that she nourished practically unhealthily, causing her even more daily pain when she thought of that adorable little child that she would have to someday leave forever as well. And she trembled every time she stepped foot into that building at the idea she couldn't always be there to be welcomed by their small arms.

But she couldn't do anything. Not even ask one to come along with her.

First of all, she didn't have a lifestyle that suited a child. Never mind that she didn't a fixed home to comfortably raise it. Then, there was no one to help her; she couldn't marry a guy just for the purpose of adopting kids, knowing that sometimes – perhaps often – it is better to be alone than in bad company.

And Naomi only knew how to trust herself.

Above all, she would be terrified to find herself with a small being that she couldn't accept losing again. As if it would prove suicidal and self-destructive. Starting from 'hello'.

Of course she had been killing herself for a long time now, but at least she didn't hurt anyone but herself. Only she would be responsible for the consequences.

"Look, Naomi!" cried out Jeremy, running to join her at the table where she was coloring with Molina.

He had drawn some magnificent designs of what seemed to be some sort of monster. Jeremy was a true artist.

He told her that they were part of a very special card game. But, being too poor to possess any, he had drawn them all himself to give himself the _illusion _he possessed them.

"And you see, this one here is my favorite."

He pointed to a dragon among the cards.

"There are only three in the world and they all belong to- "

But they were interrupted by the shouts of other children clamoring for them to join them and take turns in playing their videogame.

Mrs. Singapour tried to calm them.

"What were you saying, Jeremy?" asked Naomi, giving him her attention again.

But Jeremy didn't have the time to respond, as he was being pestered by his friends to make them some more of the monster cards.

He hugged Naomi, leaving as he apologized for the tumult.

"Oh, boys. They're so weird with their strange games… monsters. Nothing new there," Molina sighed. Naomi's pleased laugh escaped her lips.

_From the mouths of babes…_

… _then they start coloring again._

"Naomi?"

"Yes, sweetie?"

"I want you to be my mommy."

Naomi's throat shut violently, causing her to have difficulty in getting air for a long moment. Affectionately, she placed a kiss on Molina's forehead, drawing her close.

"That's kind of you, Molina."

Of course she knew that wasn't the response the child was expecting. But she didn't know anything else she could say.

. . .

Nothing seemed to be going fast enough for Kaiba, who, despite research having started at least two days beforehand, was only impatiently waiting for the results.

He was obsessing over that woman more than ever.

He had awoken in a very peculiar manner that morning that had never happened to him previously, even in his childhood, his member completely vertical. He had dreamt that he was making love. He even remembered have intensely felt something approaching an unknown trust, a sort of emotional climax. At any rate, it was an entirely new feeling. Utopia. And above all, it was ridiculous.

_Grr… get out of my head!_

_No! Stay!_

_What's she done to me?_

He growled dryly and leaned over the records spilled over the table.

"Sir! Are you alright?" asked Sadi quite lively as she placed a coffee on his desk.

_I have to stop… something isn't right._

_Yeah. Do that. Then you won't have her._

_Yes I will. I always get what I want._

_Don't say I didn't warn you._

"Sir?"

Sadi seemed concerned that Kaiba seemed so… busy.

"What?" he snapped, irritated as if she had interrupted a conversation.

Quickly realizing his mistake, he replied coldly:

"Hm. Yeah, sure."

She left, not daring to give him a second glance.

_I have to know who she is as soon as I can. Ugh… what's she done to me?  
_ The telephone rang.

"Kaiba!"

_News._

"The orphanage?"

_But what was she doing there?  
_ His face looked shocked.

"What? She… was crying?"

This was all a huge puzzle to Kaiba, who didn't know anything else. Let alone venturing into speculation.

"Fine. Keep working."

He hung up then, lamenting over how slow it was taking to find out the information he had requested. He wasn't much farther along. If he did start to know her activities, he still didn't know whom he was dealing with.

But was it truly and humanely possible that she didn't recognize him, or that she didn't know him at _all_?

It was true that he had retired from the public scene a little over two years ago; he hadn't participated in any further Duel Monsters tournaments, hadn't organized a single one, and had been happy to focus on the direction of his company, secret that it was, or on further elaboration on different videogame designs. Mokuba had accompanied him the majority of the time, and he taught him the rudiments of the profession. It was true that he had stayed a bit more in the shadows of his reputation as a highly accomplished – and ruthless – businessman and seasoned duelist. Since his accident.

But still, he stayed the most famous and most feared man of his nation.

Thus he was stunned she didn't recognize him in some form or fashion. It was certainly a question worth asking. She could have been joking; he doubted that.

He could admit, on the other hand, that not being from his country, and only recently having arrived, she couldn't exactly be up to speed with the ins and outs of the city and the surrounding area. That was probably a good thing, if he thought about it; she wouldn't judge him simply by name but on his actions and words more than by word of mouth, most of time which was either misheard or invented out of thin air.

Of course he knew that much of the charges against him were sometimes true and well-deserved; he wasn't entirely proud of all the mistakes in his wake, and he couldn't refute them. He had learned how to fight very early on, with anything he could get his hands on, for the survival of both himself and Mokuba. At the risk of harming anyone in his way.

But he had never killed anyone. And that wouldn't be happening soon. He wasn't a criminal. He still had enough of a conscience to respect life. Even those of others.

Moreover, it was as he was. He did what he had to. No regrets.

Not the best of men, maybe – in everyone's eyes. But far from the worst, the one he saw in the mirror.

At least he looked straight at it.

. . .

The day went on without end, and he didn't get any further results. His agents still hadn't come back with the information he coveted concerning Naomi. That meant he still had to wait, and _that _meant he was the most sour man in the room.

The only information he was glad to hear of was another update on her location. He could have guessed it without any help. She had visited a martial arts studio almost immediately upon leaving the orphanage.

He concluded from this that she had gone there either to train or to let off some steam. You don't have to be a genius to understand _that_.

Kaiba hesitated for a long moment, wondering if he should go to her show she would be giving that night. He didn't want to give the impression of being overzealous, but he was dying to see her and take another opportunity to study her. A small, discrete operation.

He finally decided at the last minute, potentially wanting deep inside to let her know he didn't just 'run in' to her again. Kaiba rarely left any trace of his passage.

To his great pleasure, he recognized very few of the employees or businessmen that he knew, which left him at ease to focus entirely upon her without fear of being de-masked or denounced by one of them. He wanted, oddly enough, to keep himself completely anonymous. For as long as possible. Which definitely wasn't going to be an easy task.

She stayed in the room after she sang. Visibly, she liked pleasing some of the spectators, the usual crowd, maybe, with whom she maintained cordial relations, dancing and talking with them.

Like always, she was dazzlingly gorgeous, lighting up the room with her mere presence and eclipsing all the pale stars around her which struggled in vain to resemble her.

Kaiba believed that most women would surely not appreciate how they disappeared in her presence. But men? They flocked around her like butterflies driven insane by a porch-light.

Luckily for him, the man dancing with Naomi found himself too floored by Kaiba's presence to dare to open his mouth and stop him. Kaiba was grateful as he softly took her arm to pull her to him.

"May I?"

She was deeply surprised when she discovered who had come to dance with her.

_Him again? _

_What's he doing here?  
_"No," she hissed, releasing her arm from Kaiba's grip.

But he caught up to her, baring a delicate respect.

"But I insist."

_Send him packing. No… just a dance. He is really attractive. I wonder if he knows…_

She finally acquiesced to his demand. After all, what he could to her in the middle of a crowded room? Plus she wasn't afraid of anybody. As seductive as he was. She wasn't going to be broken like a schoolgirl in front of her professor.

Kaiba brought her to him, keeping in time, a very small gap between them.

_She smells good._

"Nice evening," he said almost as a confession, almost as if he had admitted that he liked her concert more than he liked her.

But what was he hoping for?

_She's truly beautiful… does she know that?_

_Come on, Kaiba, you're not going to lose your head over some twit!  
_ "My invitation still stands," he said again, staring her straight in the eyes like he was having fun.

"And it's still a no," she responded, with a smile half-serious, half-pleased.

_Who does he take me for? Does he think I go out with every guy in the room?  
Oh, it's okay that he's thinking of me… just one dance and he'll go._

Kaiba drew her back in a bit more tightly against him, but with equal softness.

_You won't get away from me that easily, Naomi._

She didn't bother looking at him. In contrast, she tilted her head as if she were looking for something or someone in the crowd. But her body began to shiver abnormally, as if a tiny tornado were spinning around inside of her.

Kaiba felt her gently shaking, and tried to ask her about it. But she quickly avoided his inquisitive look.

"I'm getting cold," she murmured.

That wasn't impossible for the 22nd of October.

But she had to find some other reason, never having gotten anything more than a dust allergy in years. She was in perfect health.

_I'm doing fine…_

_You think? You're shaking._

_Is it _me_ who's…?_

_Why am _I_ shivering?_

_Go, Kaiba. Leave her. She isn't worth it._

The music finally stopped, to Naomi's relief, who gently backed away from him.

But again, he tried to pull her back in.

"A last dance?"

"No. Another time, maybe."

_I am Kaiba. You can't stop me from doing anything._

With as much arrogance as softness, he pulled her towards him again, taking care to bore his eyes deeply into her own.

_And you will belong to me whether you like it or not, and I will do what I want with you._

…_What did I just say?_

She didn't resist, perhaps too surprised by the action he had just made.

_What is he…?_

_He wouldn't dare._

His face had gotten so close he doubted that his lips _wouldn't _join with hers.

_What are you doing, Kaiba? Have you lost your mind?_

He had acted with spontaneity, pushed forward however strangely by an irresistible will to kiss her so strong he almost would have certainly done so if he hadn't held back at the very last second, shocked that he hadn't been able to control it.

_What has she done to me?_

She was also shaking. But it wasn't because of the anger that had taken control of her. She wasn't entirely against… this… but more against her own weaknesses, despite the fact she had been the direct cause.

Without warning he separated from her, rearing hard as if affected by some simple premeditated sign, taking one thing and then another at his will.

_Say something!_

But he couldn't find anything sensible to say nor anything that could explain what he had done. Would he look at her one last time before moving away as if his shadow had slapped him?

She watched him, bewildered and motionless in the middle of the room, looking as if she were asking herself what was going on. Again.

_You idiot! She has to think you completely mad! And you probably terrified her!_

_Come on, Kaiba, you don't need to give reasons or explanations to anyone. So stop making excuses. What's wrong with you?_

_I wish I knew._

_She must understand that you can do what you want with her._

_No, that's not what I want._

_Oh, so what _do _you want?_

No response.

. . .

_What's gotten over him? And what does it mean? _

She retired to her bedroom, where she let herself soak in a bubble-bath. The memory of Kaiba holding her made her wet skin shiver again.

Suddenly she understood that some common cold had nothing to do with his condition.

"It's him…"

. . .

Kaiba flipped in his bed several times, incapable of falling asleep.

He remained confused, turning from right to left before finally resolving to lie flat on his back, staring into the ceiling and into her eyes.

How was it that he could not find a single good hour of sleep since that foreign creature waltzed into his life?

Was it her beauty?

Yes, and no. He had found himself numerous times next to the most beautiful women in the world without having the need to touch them. In fact, he had always remained insensible to them. Then again, he wouldn't have had to snap his fingers before they obeyed him, either.

Totally useless and uninteresting.

But Naomi was more beautiful to his eyes – incomparably more desirable – then any of those fake whores.

He found himself smiling, unable to deny it.

So what was it?

The way she smelled? Her perfume?

She smelled like flowers. The fresh scent of innocent, bizarrely.

His thoughts were quickly cut off a change of physical state totally outside of his will, his member once more growing erect, into a marble statue.

_Fine. I want her._

_I already knew that._

_I want her._

_Yeah, I know. Then what?_

_I don't know._

_Kaiba! Forget her!  
Shut up!_

. . .

"Come in!" Kaiba ordered, furiously completing his daily workload.

"I finally have what you asked for, sir," the spy claimed as he handed him a thin gray folder with both hands.

He didn't seem too sure; he was trembling slightly.

"Finally," Kaiba reprimanded, glaring at him darkly.

His eyes flew over a few of the lines. The skin on his bones bristled violently, in the throes of a nervous breakdown.

"Are you _absolutely _and _entirely_ sure you know what's inside this folder?" breathed Kaiba, placing emphasis on every word as if it were required to do so.

"Yes, sir," he responded, bowing. "We've looked it over. Everything is exact, sir."

Kaiba didn't let him out of his sight, a frosty gaze that made it appear as if he were ready to pounce on him.

"Get out!"

He barely waited for the door to close before diving again into studying the folder. And what he saw deeply moved him.

"How couldn't I have known? Even doubted…?"

His eyes lost themselves in the intricate details of the city beyond the enormous office window.

He was shaking, too. A silent rage, bitter and violent.

_Some truths are better left unknown, Kaiba._

He gave a large sigh, as if he were shoving out all of the anger inside him, beginning to sincerely regret his little inquiry at this point.

He would have liked to not have known. But it was too late now.

For once, his curiosity had taken him too far.

"Kaiba!" he shouted somewhat severely into his phone. "What!"

Once again, he was stunned by what he heard.

But lots of things made sense now. All the pieces of the puzzle were put into place.

Normally, he would have been overjoyed to have made so much progress regarding his prey, to ready his net and tighten his noose around her.

Only now, he felt all the remorse of the penitent.

He wasn't going to get anything from any of this. His conscience was recoiling from his act of cowardice. And he was far too important to lower himself to this level.

But he understood now what could attract her, what could reel her in.

"Thank you."

Then he hung up.

With a single push, he got out of his chair.

He knew exactly where had to go, and exactly what he had to do.

* * *

This story is getting romantically charged pretty speedily... ufufufu...


	3. Chapter 3

Thanks for the positive reviews I've gotten, guys! It probably tickles the cockles of Melzart's heart. This chapter is pretty long, so it took me a while (days with family issues notwithstanding). This chapter I feel should have been split into maybe two or three or so. That way I would feel more accomplished. But the story is definitely revving up at this point, and in more ways than one.

Oh, thanks to Melzart for the shout-out on her profile, because that warmed the cockles of _my _heart! ^.^ It's nothing, really.

Apparences belongs to Melzart, and Yu-Gi-Oh! belongs to Kazuki Takahashi. I only have my French English knowledge, which isn't much.

* * *

**Appearances**

_by Melzart_

. . .

Chapter 3

_The Bet_

…

Kaiba ordered his subordinates to call him 'Kurami' if they ever found themselves in Naomi's presence, threatening them with express dismissal if they should dare betray him. But he got rid of them when he climbed the stairs that led to the balustrade. From there, he could watch the cars race around on the track below.

With a quick glance, he easily noticed the white-and-blue car giving its competitors a run for their money. He felt glad that she was doing so well.

Faster than the wind, Naomi demonstrated as much temerity as he himself was capable of. She won ground with her respect and admiration with the same speed that she disposed of her courtiers. Which wasn't anything to scoff at.

It was true that she represented a real challenge for him for as long as he remained interested in her. It was equally true that normally, it would have been a great delight to bend her to his will.

That thought, almost dirty, pulled an almost wicked smile from Kaiba, who was watching the race very closely.

For more than twenty minutes he patiently waited for Naomi to win, sometimes surprising himself with his worry over her ability to make a tight corner.

Yet she got out of them just as well as if it had been him doing it. That didn't fail to sting his pride.

Quietly he descended down to the pit stop, unable of keeping his eyes off her.

"Not bad!" he told her trivially, walking closer when she removed her helmet.

She jumped upon seeing him.

_Grr… doesn't he have anything _else _to do?_

"You found out how to speak?" she spat, without anything more than a glance and an allusion to the previous night.

Kaiba responded with a sarcastic smirk.

"I never lost anything."

"Really," she mocked generously.

She wasn't about to admit that her countenance had crumbled just by talking to him, something which went against all reason.

"What do you want? Make it snappy," she said, annoyed.

_Dangerous question, Naomi._

He had refrained from wincing from the last thought that had passed through his mind. But she declined and stared at him defiantly, uncertain of the signs he was giving off.

_…Is she afraid of me?_

He didn't know if he was happy or offended about the fact she feared him.

"Quite simply," he said, not allowing himself to feel rebuffed, "I think you're doing pretty well out there."

Her eyebrows raised.

_What is he up to…?_

"What if we had a little race… between friends?" he asked, completely serious.

_Since when do you have friends, Kaiba? The kind you don't buy?_

A smirk found itself on Naomi's lips, to her annoyance.

How could he afford to challenge her like this? Not only wasn't he satisfied with showing up everywhere she went, he wanted to beat her out at her own game, too?

_How arrogant. He's so detestable._

She looked at him disgustedly, as if he were too 'chic' to dirty himself, when a mad desire to laugh in his face came to mind. Even though she stayed conscious that it wasn't good to underestimate…

…She changed her mind at the last second.

"What if we made a bet?" she dared him.

A curious smile came to his lips; he was pleased she had fallen for his trap so easily.

"I'll make it," he said, trying not to laugh like a maniac.

Naomi, as if she regretted what she had said, interrupted him.

"Fine," she breathed. "If I win, you get out of my life."

"And if _I _win?" he dared her.

She sighed then, almost laughing, mocking him.

_Too much confidence, my dear Naomi. You don't know who you're dealing with._

But she turned on her heels, apparently not giving him any credibility.

"What if I win?" Kaiba repeated with insistence.

He was demanding his side of the deal.

But she didn't turn back around.

"I want an entire evening with you!" he shouted after her, clearly.

This froze Naomi in her tracks, and she turned ever so slightly around. He could glimpse her face, and it was smothered in sarcasm.

"You can always dream," she said back, too sure of herself.

"Except there's only one step between dreams and reality," he said, glancing away.

If she had looked hard enough, she would have probably run away – his eyes were filled with a fierce determination, almost sickening.

_You'll learn to know me, Naomi. You'll see._

. . .

_ Probably a poor little rich guy with nothing else to do but to try and impress women with his money…_

But what if he were more than that? Was it possible that she was only seeing the surface? The only thing she wanted to see?  
_He's bluffing._

_ If that's true, he'll go home with his tail between his legs. Fine. His pride's a bit much, but he'll get over it._

_ I hope I haven't fallen into a trap. I'm afraid of that. It's whatever he wants..._

_ If you lose?_

_ I don't respond?_

_ Like that would happen._

She tried to convince herself, deeply, of her impression. But her instincts told her that she was warping reality, and that she was completely wrong. Too many things left on her on her toes. She hated paying up.

_He won't have me that easily. Yeah! I'll show him what I've got._

. . .

Kaiba was smiling quite oddly, sitting in the backseat of his limousine as he looked out the window.

'Happy' wasn't quite the right word to explain the joy he felt at having caught her in his little trap. Moreover, he was glad, in the most honest of ways.

_This is for your own good, Naomi._

Her _good? Be honest, Kaiba. You never do something for nothing. It's just for your own unique satisfaction._

_ Who cares. I want her and I'll have her._

_ You egotistical… you really don't think about anyone other than yourself, do you? And she… have you ever asked yourself what she wants? What's best for her?_

_You really think _you're _what she wants the most?_

His smiled dimmed at that, and something quite unpleasant wrenched at his heart: a doubt.

He sighed heavily.

_I mean her no harm._

_ If you say –_

_ I will _not _harm her._

_ Are you sure?_

He shook himself slightly, more than inconvenienced by the difficult struggle against his own conscience – a phenomenon that happened only very rarely.

_Think. You don't believe that…_

The limousine stopped at the doors of KaibaCorp.

_Go to hell!_

. . .

_Ugh. He'll never let go of me._

Naomi was very annoyed to see Kaiba in the back of the room.

Apparently he never got tired of coming to hear her sing every night.

_What exactly does he want from me?_

_ Oh, like that'll go over well. I won't even talk to him._

She soon finished her supply of songs.

But she barely had time to open her mouth before he came down upon her, with a disconcerting calm and a predatory look.

"When?"

She started.

_He's so sure of himself. It's fascinating._

Kaiba leaned slowly towards her.

_When will you be mine, Naomi? What day? What time?_

"Our race?" he asked, curbing in further desires to close the distance between them.

She seemed to come out of a sudden stupor.

_The bet… he tricked me. I knew it._

Kaiba was amused by her seemingly lost attitude.

But it was clear that he would never leave the room without a further rendez-vous, with or without a challenge.

"Tomorrow evening, same place?" he murmured again, accompanying his words with the smile of a conqueror.

_So sure of himself… how insolent! He behaves exactly as if he already won… ugh! I hate that!_

Naomi felt goosebumps rocket up her spine.

_It's him who's… what's happening to me? Get rid of them… I have to-_

"Well?" Kaiba interrupted, fighting despite himself, trying his best to keep himself standing at his full height.

He was definitely, truly attracted, like a bee to honey.

A wave of panic suddenly swept through Naomi. Her body had been stiff for quite a while already, as if she had realized she were facing a formidable adversary. But she kept playing the proud girl.

"Tomorrow, four-o-clock. Same place."

Kaiba couldn't help a smile of triumph from erupting forth.

"And if you're even a minute late, the bet's off." She dared to pretend as if she were mistress of the situation.

_She's trying to make the rules… interesting, _Kaiba thought, becoming more and more amused. _So be it._

But he stopped smiling, at the same time his face came within two inches of her own so assertively it forced Naomi to turn her head away to avoid contact.

"I'll be there."

_I'm already impatient._

"Sleep tight," he breathed, almost inaudibly.

Quietly, he went for the exit.

_She's resisting me. But not for much longer._

Again and again, his presence trailed interminably behind him like a puff of powder in the air, and it fell on Naomi, who relaxed with his departure.

_He's playing with me. I hate that!_

What worried her now was how aware she was of the devastating influence he was having on her: it's hard to repel a magnet, especially when the force attracts you.

_He's too dangerous. It'll be better when he's out of my life. Definitely._

She should no longer underestimate him. Even absent, he held an almost superhuman influence.

. . .

"You're really in a good mood, big brother… did you sign a contract?" asked Mokuba, bent over his plate.

"A competition," said Kaiba, the smile never having left him since the previous evening at the sole thought of having an entire night alone with Naomi.

"Woah! What type?"

"Auto racing."

Mokuba whistled, impressed.

"Who are you up against?"

Kaiba couldn't stop the delight from illuminating his face.

"A… woman."

Mokuba rolled his eyes, sympathetic to his future defeat. He didn't really need to know his brother to know he didn't engage lightly in these kinds of fights against him.

"What're the stakes?" he asked, still aware that Kaiba rarely did things without a reward waiting for him at the end.

But the smile, almost ephemeral, that came back to his brothers lips forced to him to only imagine.

"Oh yeah, by the way, what're we gonna do tomorrow? Think of something?" he questioned again. "Where are we celebrating your birthday? With dinner? A movie?"

His birthday?

How could he have forgotten?

"Oh, Mokuba… the competition's tomorrow. I completely forgot."

"That's okay, we can do all that stuff later!" His little brother was still enthusiastic. If his predictions proved true, and he didn't doubt them, Kaiba knew that his schedule was quite full until late at night this coming October 25.

_I doubt it._

"The afternoon. Is that okay? That's the only time I can do it. Unless you want to wait until the weekend."

Even though he hadn't been offensive, Mokuba found it against his custom for Seto to put off a day between brothers. This competition had to be really important in his eyes for him to move it.

"Fine, this weekend. Promise?"

Seto Kaiba had the best little brother in the world. Discrete, sensible. He had the wisdom and intelligence to never try to embarrass or ask too many questions. An ideal companion.

"Yes, I promise," he responded. "And we'll do what you want."

In all honesty the day of his birth wasn't that important to him and if it weren't for Mokuba, he never would have stressed over it.

. . .

"What the…?"

Naomi suddenly interrupted her own thoughts when she saw a strange car so light blue it was almost white show up on the track. Certainly it was a quite spectacular car, one that promised a challenge worthy of the best racers. But what astounded her most of all was that strange logo affixed to both sides of the vehicle: a mystical, legendary animal. Rare. A dragon. It was white.

_Weird… I think a tiger would suit him better._

Oh well. Kurami was definitely the newcomer; she didn't doubt that for an instant.

Slowly, he came to a stop side by side with his rival, right at the starting line.

Kaiba looked her over rapidly, eager to glimpse a reaction that would cement his identity in Naomi's eyes.

_As you can see… I'm right on time. I wouldn't miss this for the world._

He seemed to do that a lot lately, though he had hesitated before adding his true colors. If she were to recognize the dragon, maybe she would understand whom she was dealing with. The reaction never came, Naomi being too busy putting on her helmet. But she threw him a strong glance, emphasizing she would have to prove herself and that no longer would either one of them be the kind to back down.

_I'll even give you a tiny head-start if you want, _he thought, showing an almost sardonic grin.

_Absolutely not. Keep dreaming, _she seemed to respond, more determined than ever.

Then their gazes broke to fix on the horizon, both sharing the same concentration.

Of course, Kaiba wished to win this race at any cost and believed it. He wouldn't cheat to get there. However, at the very last second, a very odd thought broke through from amongst the others.

_Be careful, Naomi._

He didn't consider this strange idea for very long, sweeping it away almost immediately as if it were stupid and out of place. Since when did he care for the safety of others besides himself and his brother?

Finally, the signal to _go _was given, and the two racecars squealed their tires with the same accelerative force, rushing away down the track at a torrid pace.

She took the lead with great agility.

_You wanna play? Well, let's play, then._

The CEO's foot pressed harder on the accelerator; he knew his car sufficiently well to know the speed that it could reach. And it was quite far from the maximum.

Slightly further ahead, Naomi dared to glance quickly into her rearview mirror to notice him approaching dangerously. Upon seeing this she did the same, not permitting him to pass her by.

For several laps, both of them fought hard to surpass the other, Kaiba sticking close behind her. This was his strategy; because he was happy just to scare her shitless and push her to her outermost limits. It was a question of understanding further what this woman was made of.

He went to speed past her left-hand side, but she deliberately blocked him. A bit later, he tried her right. Nothing worked; she didn't want to seem to cede a single inch to him. No sign of nervousness. He sped up; she did the same.

There were now only two laps left to go (as they had had a twenty-lap match) and Kaiba finally managed to drag up to her sides, without fearing the tight corners that he had just benefited from.

_I see. A daredevil, _she told herself, not daring to breathe as if she might fear it would jeopardize her safety. He stayed on her left, bearing down.

That's when, with only one lap left, everything changed. One small lap.

Out of nowhere, perhaps a hundred or so meters directly in front of Kaiba, a man who had perhaps appeared from the bleachers found himself on the track. He saw the two cars heading straight for him.

"FUCK! What's he doing?" Kaiba yelled.

_What in the… _she thought simultaneously, totally helpless for the poor man and for the accident that now seemed inevitable.

Kaiba could either dodge around her, trying to slow down or stop his mad dash, thereby giving himself the win, which was certainly out of the question now, or he could even directly flatten Naomi's car now on his right, knocking her into the middle and gravely injure her if the car started to barrel roll. How could you avoid one of them?

The battle raged in his mind. Everything happened too quickly.

_He won't… no! If he doesn't stop, he'll kill him, there's no doubt! _she thought again, more anxious over Kaiba's actions, on whom depended the events to come.

So the poor hopeless man ran away from the middle of the track, trying to shield himself, thinking he still had time. He only miscalculated the speed of the approaching vehicles.

Kaiba finally had the clear shot in front of him, with no more obstacles in his path. But Naomi wasn't so lucky; she was too late to avoid the man in front of her.

In a fraction of a second she had to make a very serious decision. As she couldn't stop in time, she went full throttle to her left to avoid him, directly in front of Kaiba.

_Grr! No! Don't… do… that! _He restrained himself from screaming in anger as he watched what Naomi was doing.

With a twist of the wheel, her car ended up sideways in front of Kaiba's, but began flipping upside-down in a multitude of barrel rolls until it solidly hit the bleacher wall after sliding on its roof, ending its journey.

The man was saved, narrowly avoiding her.

Though they had passed the finish line, Kaiba was far from satisfied; he braked sharply, deeply disturbed by what he had seen.

_Naomi!_

In what state would he find her in now? This was definitely unexpected.

As soon as his car reached a stop, he clambered out at full speed, but stopped upon seeing the help that had already reached Naomi's car.

Kaiba took only a fraction of a second to stare at the intruder in the center of the track, finding him crumpled on the ground and rolled into a ball. Luckily for him, he couldn't see all the anger and contempt with which he was being addressed.

. . .

She was unconscious when they took her out of the wreckage.

Then her eyes opened on everyone who had circled around her in worry. She remembered everything, then.

With a movement, they took away her helmet; blood soaked her forehead, which had been sliced open upon impact.

_She risked her life for a nobody. Grr… a nobody…_

Kaiba held his breath, still enraged and more worried that he would let it show. Her forehead didn't leave his line of sight.

_Wounded…_

"Naomi! Naomi! Do you hear me, Naomi?" cried one of the mechanics who didn't dare to touch her out of fear of aggravating a potential wound.

Totally numb, it was she who was worrying the most.

"He's okay?... He's not hurt? The man?" she murmured, trying to take control of her thoughts.

Kaiba's heart stopped beating on the spot.

_What? She's not even thinking about herself._

"Yes, yes, don't worry," responded the mechanic. "You. Tell me what's wrong. Does it hurt anywhere? Just wait, help's on its way, don't move."

"No! I'm fine… I'm fine," she said, seizing the arms of the two men surrounding her. She seemed as if she wanted to get up before a dizzy spell nailed her to the ground.

"Careful! Don't move, okay?"

Kaiba came to intervene and keep her motionless on the roadway, and he believed he would have done so if there weren't already enough people around her. It was more a violent, tormenting grief. That little dangerous game could have cost her her life. And he secretly hated himself for it.

So it was that when their eyes met, he couldn't avoid catching a glimpse of her real concern. He hastened to turn away.

_He didn't slow down… didn't even try to stop… what was he thinking of? Winning?_

Courageously, she took the arms outstretched towards her, and painfully stood despite everyone's disapproval and despite the fact she could fall on her derriere due to the lack of equilibrium.

She was intact, certainly shaken by shock, but she stood on her own two feet even though there was some soreness here and there. Nothing serious. Nothing but bruising, probably.

Kaiba couldn't stop staring at her bloodied forehead as he stepped slowly back towards his car, choosing to sit on the hood without a word. But he had been judged. And he could feel it in the pit of his stomach. It was by Naomi's sole glare, turned almost glacial and contemptuous. Or maybe it was just terror that gnawed at him.

Suddenly, she rejected the hands and arms of those surrounding her, trying to prove she was perfectly capable of doing this alone.

The small half-smile of the admiring Kaiba managed to anger her, even though she discovered the sincerity that was usually lacking from his facial expressions.

She kept on walking, barely moving yet walking with dignity, head held high. She was furious.

"He is a public _danger. _I don't see anyone else," she repeated, trying to keep herself from screaming.

But her eyes deviated again towards the seated man whom, since the end of the race, hadn't moved a muscle, probably also in a state of shock.

_Grrr…. she's worrying about that nobody again._

Kaiba was also angry. Against this guy, not Naomi, who seemed to pity the miserable man.

However, when she couldn't see him, he surprised himself by sighing by the sight of such kindness, normally exasperating to his detached eye.

Mechanically, she grew cold and whipped around to stare at him.

"What's your problem?" she asked him, voice replete with disgust.

Totally unmoved despite the remark which whipped at his blood, Kaiba resumed his haughty air.

"I don't have one. He wasn't in the right place at the right time," he breathed slowly. "Your head is bleeding. I think you should see a doctor without the slightest delay."

"What?" she shrieked, wiping her head with her sleeve without paying him any more mind.

She exploded.

"We are _talking _about a human being over here!" she hissed aggressively between her teeth.

Kaiba could understand her anger, seeing as he probably seemed inhumane. But he persistently kept that indifferent allure even though something, strangely resembling guilt, hadn't stopped blossoming inside of him.

"He was more scared than he was hurt," he said, without compassion.

However as he understood that the unlucky guy's fate was still ardently worrying Naomi, his voice grew softer, ever so briefly.

"He's fine… Naomi."

She gasped, turning her head around furiously to shoot him another look, but this time was as much surprised as simply shocked. It was the first time he had called her by her first name. And he had done it with such softness she stayed unarmed, even oddly reassured.

"What is more," he murmured, "it would have bothered me to waste that appointment tonight."

_He's so… cold… but when he says my name… it's…_

She didn't let him out of her outraged, glowering gaze, barely managing to keep a tingling feeling from stretching over her flesh.

Still, Kaiba preferred to play peacock.

"I won. I get my prize."

It didn't matter how.

_A prize? Is that all I am? He's so… impossible._

She stayed motionless, insulted, not knowing what to think of this obdurate man or his alleged victory, which he claimed without apparent remorse. Nothing seemed to be able to touch his sensibilities, if he even had any.

Kaiba looked at her, stopping himself from turning away. Why would he ever pity the miserable guy's luck? Wasn't the final result all that was important? He won, without cheating. Harshly, perhaps. And even at the expense of some guy's safety who had no business being on the track, Naomi was ready to sacrifice herself for him, which he bitterly lamented. Almost as much as he admired her for it.

But he had still won.

Quietly, he rose off the hood of his car, then stared at her coldly.

"Six-thirty. I'll send a car. Don't be late."

_Is that an order? _she thought, freezing in place and suddenly feeling nauseous.

A strange weight knotted in Kaiba's stomach; any more and he would have had to admit that he was wrong if he hadn't hurried to leave at that precise moment. Indirectly, he profited from one of his weaknesses though he had forbidden himself from doing so: he didn't have anything to be proud of. But he was aware that it was the only way of getting to her.

And leaving this occasion pass him by was out of the question.

Of course, he could feel Naomi's glare burning into the back of his head; she had to hate him at least as much as she feared him. This wounded him, deeply. He didn't understand why. But he continued to lie to himself, preferring to come off as pitiless as he was with everyone else. And go around acting as if nothing had happened.

. . .

_He's a monster! I don't see anyone else._

Naomi was no longer angry, shaking her head belittlingly as if she still hadn't come completely to.

The man was still in a state of shock. He had to have seen his life flash before his eyes in those few seconds. She was dismayed for him.

Suddenly, out of nowhere, three men appeared beside them, dressed like nurses.

"Excuse us, miss," said one of them. "Come with us, please."

"What?" she said loudly, as another of them ran towards the victim.

"Mr. Ka-…. Kurami asked us to ensure that both of you were doing alright."

_Kurami…? He… ?_

"We have to check your wound, miss. Don't worry about him, we'll take good care of him," he finished as he checked Naomi's forehead to assure that it was no longer of any risk.

She stayed stunned, thoughts directed at Kaiba.

_So now he has a heart? Ha! He probably bought that, too._

"I'm fine," she said, pushing away the nurse's hand. "Don't worry about me."

But he insisted.

"But we had orders, miss. And it would be more prudent if- "

"I'll have nothing to do with him. I repeat, I am fine," she cut him off dryly before turning to care for the unfortunate man once again.

At the top of the bleachers, Kaiba was completely out of sight and was looking at her for a long moment, annoyed by how her compassion for the man never seemed to pucker out. For a fraction of a second he would have given anything to be in the poor man's place, so she could care for him with the same altruism. Or more.

So was it really a weakness to know how to pity the luck of the common man?

_He isn't like you and me, Naomi. He isn't like us…_

_ Us?_

Still, he took at least some consolation from the incident. The only consolation he had been hoping for all week. Naomi was all his. At least, that evening. And everything worked out just fine, because it was his birthday.

…

_He's too dangerous… he doesn't think about anyone but himself. He'd do anything to win. No matter what._

Naomi swallowed hard, less than an hour and a half later.

Kaiba suddenly terrified her.

_But he still took time to send for help._

_ Are you trying to console yourself? Open your eyes. That guy isn't like the others and you know that. He's dangerous. Do you hear me? Dangerous!_

_Grr… what's wrong with him? What exactly does he want from me?_

She was going to spend her evening with him. Reluctantly.

There was no question that she gave him the satisfaction of showing off her weak points. It would be a big mistake to give him even a single glance, however small. She felt Kaiba was sufficiently strategic to not give _her _the opportunity.

A simple evening. Then, presto, it would all be over.

Roland opened the limousine door, bowing very respectfully towards her.

Naomi had finally opted for the classic look, without exaggeration; she was wearing a little black dress that was tight enough to hint at her magnificent legs. At the top of her chest a large V-shaped neckline dominated her shoulders. And as always, her makeup was sparse.

All the better if he liked it. She saw in all of this an ideal occasion to make him bitterly regret chasing her down.

. . .

_She's… definitely more dangerous than I am._

Kaiba could not take his eyes off of Naomi's alluring shadow as soon as she walked through the door. Moreover, a strong feeling of jealousy came over him, as he wasn't the only one to profit from her charms – the entire staff had their eyes on her, as well.

He rose from the table at her approach, very politely and with a reflex he barely even recognized, betraying his enchantment with her.

"Right on time," he whispered, pulling back her chair.

She responded with a smile so thin it seemed to turn the rest of her face into ice.

_Does she know the effect she has on me? I don't believe so… no._

Visibly, she had kept the same shocked demeanor that he had left her with. Kaiba understood that her thoughts weren't always directed towards him.

Although he took a great feeling of annoyance from it, he preferred to forget it all for the moment, to reassure her in that same oh-so-futile way.

"He's very good. And he will be followed for as long as he feels the need," he admitted, hoping to relight the fire of her magnificent face.

She barely looked at him. But Kaiba recognized that she was grateful.

"Thanks," she murmured, turning her attention to the remainder of the empty room.

_There's nobody here… except us in this restaurant._

"I don't like crowds," he told her, as if answering a question she didn't dare ask.

"What?" she asked, coming out of her thoughts.

"I didn't want a crowd tonight," he repeated.

That wasn't an excuse for how alone they were in the restaurant.

"So… you reserved the entire place?" she teased him, trying to get Kaiba to see his egocentrism.

But he was not going to lie, or find it uncomfortable.

"Exactly."

Naomi's indifferent attitude chilled Kaiba.

He sighed in frustration.

"What if we signed a truce?" he asked, not half-joking.

"I only obeyed orders," she replied frostily. "I didn't ask to be here!"

Kaiba fidgeted, taking the insult hard.

_I forbid you from hating me, Naomi._

A short silence came between them.

"I would have avoided it, somehow," he said, trying to break ice and yet not really knowing how to do it.

She seemed to not be paying much attention.

"I am many things, I'll admit that," he revealed. "But I am no murderer."

Naomi suddenly realized that she had judged him maybe a little too severely because of her distrust, which had become instinctive over the years. Of course she knew he could be lying to her. She couldn't bring herself to believe, though, an entirely malicious being inhabited this man's soul.

"Something to drink?" he asked, as if preventing her from drawing out her thoughts too far.

_Fine… make a small effort, at least… he doesn't have to be that mean._

_But don't lower your guard. Just be nice. That'll be enough. Besides, it's just one evening… it isn't important._

As it looked like she had just finished examining her conscience, Kaiba was pleasantly surprised to find a small smile come to Naomi's lips.

"Just a coffee."

_I don't drink either, Naomi. What's wrong with me? I don't have to unveil myself. She's acting for herself, not for me._

"What do you do in life, Mr. Kurami?" she asked, with a voice that had become as pleasant as her face.

Finally the anger seemed to have left her.

"I work… with virtual game systems," he admitted, not exactly lying.

He wasn't going to tell her he dominated the world market by himself alone and that thousands of people depended on his own good will.

"That's popular, here in Japan," she said again, her tone not betraying the slightest surprise.

Kaiba couldn't hold back another smile, almost embarrassedly.

"Yes. It's a very…. lucrative business."

Could she even see the enormous dollar signs that were sitting in front of her eyes?

"Doubtless," she said, shaking her head.

Apparently Naomi wasn't really interested in the financial realm, because she then turned her head to examine the dust that was on the table.

"You're not from here, I gather?" asked Kaiba, much more interested in her than in himself.

_Are you kidding? He guessed that on his own?  
_ "My accent?"

"No, you don't have one. It's surprising," he responded, fascinated. "How many languages do you speak?"

"Five," she admitted.

_Brilliant._

Kaiba managed to notice a live spark in her eyes denoting her very large interest in the topic.

"Which ones?"

Unfortunately, she wasn't fooled, and immediately shut the door on any further comments.

"Is this a test?"

_Grr… missed it._

"I'm curious."

_Curiosity can be quite a bad problem, _she thought, camouflaging her small grimace.

In line with her thoughts, and quite oddly, Kaiba retorted:  
"But curiosity is the basis for all intelligence."

It was Naomi's turn to fidget. So much so that she asked herself whether Kaiba could read her thoughts.

"Do you dance?" asked Kaiba, taking her hand.

"No. I only dance at work."

Visibly, she didn't want to seem to stand and accompany him.

_I don't like dancing, Naomi. But to hold you in my arms…. that's enough, Kaiba!_

Once more, Kaiba insisted as he rose. Which caused Naomi to be drawn towards him.

_She smells good… and she's so… desirable…_

Kaiba didn't realize that he had softly nestled against her. No more so than Naomi, who didn't push him away but whose body began to furiously tremble. Pleasant shivers shook her, hammering as they went, leaving themselves in Kaiba's plain sight.

She felt as if she would faint.

A very sweet grin came to Kaiba's lips, who was dying to passionately kiss her. Nothing would have stopped him, if there hadn't been spectators.

_Say something. Anything._

Naomi shifted slightly.

"Five!" she nearly shouted, breaking the silence.

Kaiba flinched, brutally wrenched from his thoughts.

"What?"

"I said I speak French, English, Spanish, German and Japanese."

Still drunken with his fantasies, he listened politely, without interrupting.

"And… I can also understand Russian, Italian, Greek, and Cantonese," she added, looking quite vexed.

Their eyes met then, and she devoured by the will to unite their lips.

It suddenly didn't matter if they were in the middle of a 'crowd' or not.

_I want him to kiss me so badly… it's insane…_

Kaiba leaned in dangerously close to her face, equally pushed by the desire to taste.

_If I kissed you? What would that do?_

Troubled and having difficulty hiding her lack of ease in breathing normally, Naomi broke the gaze by turning her head.

_What's happening to me? I'm losing myself._

Kaiba showed none of the disappointment that rocked him when she detached herself to return to her seat. To him, of course, it was only postponed. But it truly seemed as if she were trying to avoid it.

But he knew it now, just as he had always felt it deep inside. She shared the same attraction for him, although it was against her will.

The question was now nothing more than 'How much longer will she resist'?

Isn't that what he always wanted?

. . .

Naomi, upon sitting, did something that shocked and angered Kaiba: she took a small package out of her purse, and put a cigarette to her mouth.

_Is she doing that on purpose?_

"I don't smoke," he said, as if he were trying to stop her from performing the action herself.

Her eyebrows jumped slightly, daring to confront him as she lit the thing.

"Really?"

A perfect indifference found itself in the tone of her voice.

_Yeah, she's doing this on purpose._

She wasn't going to go without. There was even more of a reason to do so if Kaiba disliked it.

He was having trouble repressing his intention to order her to go away. He didn't even try to avoid the cigarette smoke that she was deliberately aiming over his head. Yet a strong desire to preach to her wouldn't leave his mind at this point.

"So," she said, more provocatively. "Let's speak about you, Mr. Kurami."

She had felt his irritation and though she wasn't normally a naturally unpleasant person, in fact someone who was generally very attentive to assure she didn't displease anyone, she cunningly hoped that his interest in her would crash and burn upon seeing the cigarette. Anything to get rid of him.

It was just that Kaiba couldn't be more impressed by her acting skills.

_This won't fly, Naomi, _he told himself, frowning.

"What's there to say?" he answered, braving her glare.

It seemed to her he was seeking conversation.

"I'm not married."

Naomi sighed mockingly between two puffs of smoke. It was a kind of phrase she regularly heard from the occasional businessman who attempted to seduce her.

"Oh? I suspected that."

Kaiba became interested in what she meant.

"It's what they all say."

_Run-of-the-mill…_

Both her diction and her tone smacked into Kaiba. How could she dare compare him to all of those scoundrels?

_I am Kaiba! Ring any bells? KAIBA!_

But again, he showed none of the insult from what she had just done.

On the contrary, strongly interested, he tilted towards her, as if it were of the utmost importance that she measure the full scope of his judgment.

"I'm not like the others, Naomi."

She knew that. His words didn't make any sense to her, being as they were totally unjustified. Everything in his attitude clearly showed he wasn't joking around.

She repented of her freely-escaped accusation. But she continued to ignore his insistence, turning her eyes to the server who had just come to their table.

"Really?"

_I hate when you do that, Naomi._

"Lots of men pretend to… actually," she said again, sincerity marking her voice this time. "They seem to want to drool over me as if I were some sort of- "

Naomi cut herself off suddenly, glaring at Kaiba, who had been attentively listening.

"Not important," she finished icily.

_But it's important to me, Naomi_.

"I suppose they didn't know how to resist all of the charm," he stated calmly.

_What about you? Can you do it, maybe? Admit it, you're wrong, Kaiba. She's better than you thought._

"So… it's all just a question of appearances?"

"Only for some people," he responded, as if he were defending himself.

. . .

But what was there to say, to add, when all you wanted was right at your fingertips and there was nothing to do but pick?

Neither one of them managed to learn anything about the other one using their words, which had grown futile. They were barely enjoying their meals, as they were instead nourishing themselves on the sole presence of the second individual.

She refused to personally disclose herself, though Kaiba tried numerous times to make her talk. She clung to using small responses tailor-made to politely dodge his questions. Kaiba, meanwhile, wasn't trying to say anything more than necessary anyway, because he was already held under the secrecy of his true identity.

However, he still couldn't believe just how much he could want this woman; what drove him there; what could actually result in its wake.

The hours passed, ever so quickly, with the two of them contemplating to themselves in partial silence.

Rain was pounding the streets when their feet struck the pavement in front of the entrance to the restaurant.

With a gesture, Kaiba called Roland, who then ran towards them sporting an umbrella. Kaiba protected Naomi from becoming wet, holding her against him gallantly until they reached the limousine.

_Now what? _he asked himself as he held his gaze through to what lay beyond the window, trying to not fixate upon Naomi, who was seated before him.

_You can't let her leave like this without at least having tried. Wait. Tried what?_

The two of them scrutinized the other one every now and then, moved by the same noiseless and attractive force. But neither one dared break the silence.

_In several more minutes, it'll all be over. Be brave, Naomi. Then you-_

_ You what?_

_ He's so… invite him over._

_ No._

_ You're dying to. What's to stop you?_

_ Be quiet._

_ Not even a goodbye kiss?_

_ Grr…_

Naomi whipped her head around towards the window that Kaiba was staring out of. Suddenly, she saw him quickly avert his eyes.

Apparently, he had been looking at her when she wasn't noticing.

_We get there, and... _Kaiba thought, torn between the irresistible wish to furiously embrace her and the duty to let her go right between his fingers.

Naomi didn't seem to want to lengthen her evening. He didn't want, either, to seem obsessive by insisting she stay.

Besides, it had never been his intention to get her in bed as his dessert. It simply wasn't his style. It never had been.

_Try at least to kiss her._

_ No. Not unless that's what she wants, too._

_ But you know she wants you._

_ Perhaps. But I'd like her to come to me._

_ You're dreaming._

_ Besides, what does 'I'd like' mean? You take and you demand. You don't normally ask so many questions._

The car stopped in front of the hotel.

_Finally! I need to get out of here._

Naomi made herself seem almost impatient to leave the vehicle; but she was fighting between inviting him inside or to send him packing forever.

_It's so bizarre… how is it that he hasn't tried to kiss me? He's acting like he doesn't care at all. But… it's so weird._

_ Well, all the better, then. This way you don't have to dump him. It's not any worse. Besides, there's no way he liked the evening you made him undergo. He had to have been expecting a tad more cooperation, I'd imagine._

She was about to clamber out the door when a hand, placing itself on her wrist, stopped her in her tracks.

"Don't go, Naomi. Stay for a bit."

She stopped, not risking looking at Kaiba, who had just released her arm.

"Sleep well," he murmured.

_Sleep well! You idiot! Pull her inside, make love to her there on the seat, at least, take her by force if you want!_

Kaiba's conscience gave him a blow in the pit of his stomach.

_No. That's not 'me'. I'd never abase myself to something like that._

"Good night," she replied, placing her foot on the sidewalk, Roland still accompanying her with the umbrella up to the entryway.

_He didn't even try, _she thought, as though it were worthy of some terrible regret.

For a very short instant, she would have loved to feel the softness of his lips on her mouth… or her body.

_Better stay here. You even told yourself: he's too dangerous. Especially for you._

Kaiba waited a few minutes before ordering his chauffeur to leave. Secretly, he hoped to see her come back towards the limousine and invite him up to her bedroom. But she didn't look back once.

* * *

WARNING: According to the original author, **CHAPTER FOUR **is very dangerous. In her words, it has a "certain violence" (if you can guess that from the first three chapters), and she wishes to WARN you before reading: "If you can't take the sight of naked bodies, stop reading! Or avoid Chapter 4 - _Everything is Relative_! Thank you for your cooperation."


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter four! My hand is now officially mad at me for all the typing I've done today.

For those of you that aren't big on sex scenes (like me... though I still had to read it), I've separated out the area where it all happens so you can avoid it. Just don't read it and then blame me for anything. As of this writing, I'm ramping up the rating on this fic (Melzart, pourquoi tu ne l'as donné qu'un 'T' avec tout qui se trouve dans ce chapitre?)

"Appearances" belongs to Melzart, Yu-Gi-Oh! belongs to Kazuki Takahashi.

* * *

**Appearances**

_by Melzart_

**. . . **

Chapter 4

Everything is Relative

…

Naomi held back from giggling as best as she could as she stood before the man who was soaked to the bone. He apparently had run a long way to reach the front door to her suite, seeing as he was short of breath and was having no success at trying to hide it.

But he stayed silent, staring at her like a predator ready to bound onto its prey, which didn't fail to trouble her.

"Forget something?" she told him, still trying not to laugh but with a pointed irony in her voice.

"Yeah," he managed to say as he tried to regulate his breathing.

_Something like that._

Suddenly, he couldn't contain it anymore. He seized her arm and violently rammed his lips against hers, in a kiss replete with ardor, desire.

_Shove him away… Defend yourself… I can't…_

But not wishing to cave in, she pretended to be offended by his actions as their mouths separated.

"And was this part of the deal, too?"

_What?_

Kaiba recoiled with dread at the rejection, honestly offended by her cruel words. How could she possibly think he was trying to buy her?

_If you give yourself to me… it will never be by obligation._

"No," he breathed.

**~~~ - START SCENE - ~~~**

He seemed vulnerable then. Almost imploring. And she found that he was more irresistible when showing his true colors, as maladroit as he was. He wasn't as implacable and cruel as he wanted to come off as, having become just a man imbued with an obvious desire, like any one of the millions of others.

Besides, still under the guise of a false name, wasn't it _she _that wanted him to come back?

_Just once… once… then afterwards…_

Brusquely, her arms coiled around Kaiba's neck, and her lips passionately joined with his.

_You were right. She-_

Kaiba lifted her off the ground, pulling her against him as he crossed under the doorframe. With a weak kick behind him, he shut the door behind them.

They waltzed a long moment, devouring each other insatiably, until their clothes found themselves thrown into the four corners of the room.

For a long time Naomi's sheets were the strange witnesses a strong, strange parade that they both fought, rolling one on top of the other over and over on the bed, competing for the privilege to dominate. So much so that they fell backwards out of the bed, Naomi hitting the ground under Kaiba's weight, who immediately tried to assure that she wasn't hurt.

But seeing her amused face, he couldn't help joining her gentle laugh with a sketch of a smile, equally upbeat about the situation. Then their lips met each other once again, greedily.

If Naomi didn't consider herself defeated this time, Kaiba didn't care as he held her to the ground, softly using his power to keep her there.

His gaze lingered on Naomi's face; he didn't know exactly what he was looking for, no more than he knew what he would find once he entered her. But she voluntarily let no sound cross the barrier of her lips.

_She's trembling… is it me who's…?_

Conscious that she was being watched and fighting to not show him her pleasure, she turned her head away; she could not stop a small groan from being heard, however, which provoked a long, pleasant shiver down Kaiba's body, paralyzing him, for almost a second, making him feel both exuberant and intoxicated simultaneously.

_She's driving me crazy._

The strange impression of toppling completely into another universe, totally unknown. Above all, of not being the master, but the slave. Even the miniscule glimmer of what remained of his reason wasn't sufficient to combat the urgent need he felt to make her his. It was a little like as if a piece of himself found its place inside of him, as if she completed him. All of him was clamoring that he abandon his efforts to resist. All but that cold logic, which continued to fight against it.

Another shudder from Naomi completed his quest to understand.

She was so beautiful. So tender. So woman.

_She belongs to me._

Without really comprehending, he knew it. These types of things only explained themselves through instinct. Then they are felt.

Still not daring to breathe a word, they temporarily broke their embrace to change positions.

As if she submitted, she turned her back to him, laying against the bed so that he could take her again.

He pressed down to satisfy her when his eyes deviated towards the lower part of her back, where he noticed a very small cut, which had become a scar a long time ago, just above her left hip. It was almost invisible. A scratch.

He stayed immobile, horrified by his discovery, invaded at that moment by a retching heart and evident anger. Because he knew it was there. And he knew how the exact source.

_What's he doing?_

Naomi sat up slowly, not turning her head to him. But she could easily feel the cold playing at her back.

_Do something, Kaiba._

_ She's incredible._

Kaiba joined their bodies, throwing his arms around her and holding her firmly against him. Then he let his mouth glide along the nape of her neck, in an embrace more torrid than before.

He penetrated her again, along with all of the emotions inside of him he had to share, struggling to not let her notice the thoughts that were haunting him now.

Again, he had to forfeit when she leaned forward almost completely submissively, which made him remember those other rare intimate moments randomly, which couldn't compare themselves to this one.

They were stronger than him.

_Not you, Naomi. I don't want to miss any of you._

He backed out, depriving her of the pleasure she had been expecting.

_That's it? He's done already? What's wrong? _Naomi thought, finally turning around to look at him, looking for an indicator which would allow her to understand what was happening in Kaiba's mind.

He seemed frozen, awaiting an explanation.

_She's beautiful…_

She had to look completely bewildered.

It was then that a very feeble smile appeared on Kaiba's face. On his knees, he moved between her thighs, tenderly grasping her hips with his hands and affectionately putting his lips on her breasts.

_We're just getting started, Naomi._

Even more tenderly, he stretched out his body and kissed her all over, already inside of her deeply. To nourish himself from her body by drinking out of her with his lips was everything he aspired to now.

No place on earth seemed softer, warmer, more welcoming.

He was completely delirious.

_Kaiba… get a hold of yourself…_

Was his conscience ever going to leave him alone?

_You're losing your mind, don't you see? She has you between her fingers, like a toy._

_ No. I have complete control._

Kaiba stood, Naomi's legs around him as she continued to kiss him passionately, moving with him.

More violently than he would have wanted, he shoved her against the wall, overcome with stimuli, showing her his teeth like a madman eager to stab.

But a cry, with no pleasure in it, came out of Naomi.

_Why?_

Which stopped Kaiba's aggressive motions.

She was shaking. He wasn't sure if it was due more to pleasure, or due more to pain. She was shaking and was looking at him with eyes both pleading and questioning.

_You BRUTE! You went too far, Kaiba! She didn't deserve this and you know it! She's not a piece of meat, she's-_

_ Exactly! Show her who's boss!  
No!_

_ No regrets. Hurt her if you need to!_

_ No! NEVER AGAIN!_

_ What's she done to me…?_

. . .

Kaiba's glare suddenly softened, as if he were looking to excuse the violence, as if the true being inside of him was coming back towards the surface.

Affectionately, he placed his lips on her forehead, there where she had gotten injured during the race, now strangely concerned with the vile wound. Then he let them move down her face, where he united them with hers with a tenderness that he had, for all these long years of solitude, had kept hidden.

Something of grave importance seemed to come off of Kaiba's face. The mask he had worn until then crumbled to bits and tumbled to the floor, and he couldn't catch the slightest scrap.

Naked. He felt completely naked and vulnerable, there in the pit of his stomach, in his Garden of Eden. However nothing in the world could compare to the sweetness of the burning ground, nor to the sound of that voice which rivaled the pure beauty of the harp which hung by his ear.

Still holding her against him, he brought them back to the bed, where he began to let her control the pace of the ride.

He would do anything to satisfy her, body and soul. That had ended his attempt to dominate her by force.

The way she undulated was sublime.

And suddenly Kaiba understood it, as if he had a disproportionate amount of evidence. She was born and entirely made to love.

To be loved.

By him.

She extinguished from him what he never thought he possessed. He didn't have any way to refuse her.

It mattered little whether she were in charge or whether she served him. At the moment, she was unaware of everything buzzing inside of him. It didn't matter because she didn't know how helpless he was to her, as if it were the first time his fingers had touched a woman's body and he didn't know how to react to such a beautiful body.

Naomi stopped moving when she saw Kaiba's abdomen writhing violently, as if he were fighting to not explode. Several seconds to allow him to get control of himself. Those seconds were beneficial to both of them.

Strangely, in his pleasure, she leaned on him, letting her bosom caress the skin of his chest.

_Does she know that I like to feel her against me?_

Kaiba shifted to sit up, helping to keep her legs around his waist. He had decided to take charge again, to keep control of his excitement, and by extension, their mutual pleasure.

Naomi let him descend in such a way as to allow him to explore her body, and he devoured her chest, tickling and hungrily licking the tips of her breasts.

Again, she held in her satisfaction with difficulty; and again, Kaiba heard her, to his great pleasure, and the comings-and-goings between her thighs began to slowly speed up.

The desire was mutual and quick to arrive when their fingers gripped each other in furor and they trembled and had difficulty taking breaths. He bowed his head so that she didn't see his face at the same time that she turned hers away so that he couldn't notice her pleasure or overbearing pride. It was the best available ally to camouflage the emotions they felt, and against which they refused to completely cede.

They told each other everything without once opening their mouths.

With a delicacy he didn't recognize, he brought her to him as he laid out on his back, her head propped up on his chest.

**~~~ - END SCENE - ~~~**

_You were waiting for this, weren't you, Kaiba?_

_ You can go away now. You're satisfied, right?_

_ No. Not yet._

_ What's wrong with you? Usually you take what you need and go._

_ That's true._

_ Why should this be any different?_

_ I still want her._

_ So you'll come back and –_

_ No. I still want her _now_._

_ You can find another one…. wait until next time… it's basically the same anyway._

_ You lie._

She was the first to break away, to get up. But he held her back lovingly by the wrist, as if he wasn't allowing her to go.

_Please… don't touch me._

_ Why does he have so much of an effect on me?_

But this time she didn't seem to notice the trouble she had gotten herself into.

"I'm a little hungry," she said, trying to leave.

"I'll go with you."

She stopped, turning towards him as if she were indifferent.

"Don't bother. Look, you got what you wanted- "

_What I wanted? How can she know what I want if I don't even know myself?_

"…me, too, I admit it. It was very… pleasant… but we're stopping here, okay?" she said again, without noticing the anger that was building behind Kaiba's temples. "I think you should put this behind you."

_She's leaving me behind? Grr…_

It was too much. And she wasn't asking him a question.

Apparently, she had decided to leave him of her own free will.

_It's up to me to please you, Naomi. When I want to!_

But she barely looked at him as she left.

_I'll be back. I promise, _he vowed as he followed in her footsteps several minutes later.

. . .

She could barely stand on her own two legs, advancing haltingly with one foot in front of the other, still giddy from their 'outing'. Lost. She needed air. Lots of it. Enough to replace all the lost neurons.

She had fought against the desire to return to the bedroom before she even left it and cling to him, her body never ceasing to want to be caressed again. She was still shaking.

_So weird. It's like I belonged to him._

Her room had been empty for a long time when she returned there, alone. For a brief moment she had hoped he would still be there. Without even taking the time to undress, she lay on the bed. The odor she found there was no longer hers. It was deliciously intertwined with a powerful masculine fragrance. His scent.

Her mouth hunted for the invisible body hidden between the sheets, unsuccessfully, and then she felt an immense feeling of emptiness cruelly rip her entire being open. Followed by an irresistible urge to cry.

And the night was long. Extremely long before sleep finally comforted her.

. . .

Kaiba, in his large bed, returned several times to reassessing that moment, trying in vain to analyze it. But logic seemed incapable of the slightest explanation.

All he successfully understood was what he still wanted. That he kept an insupportable desire to feel her body against his, and most of all, that he was far from satisfied.

And she rejected him.

All his life, he had been the one who picked and chose as he wished. He had even always shown a cold disregard at all human contact in the hope of delaying the inevitable: the moment when someone, somewhere, would show him quite plainly that he was doubtless the most vulnerable, friendless being on earth. Despite appearances.

What he had feared had finally happened. The unbearable terror of not being accepted as he once was. And he felt completely abandoned.

The great Kaiba was as much bitter as he was angry.

After all the beauty… the cruelty.

_You will be entirely mine, Naomi._

For the first time in his life, Kaiba found his bed to be cold.

The bed that had never welcomed another living soul apart from his own.

For the first time in his life, Kaiba would have happily shared that space.

It was worse. She had done worse than reject him. She had done it without even recognizing him, knowing whom exactly he was.

She didn't know he was rich and powerful. That he dominated the world even higher up than his own greatness; nothing. She knew nothing about Seto Kaiba.

It was him alone that she had rejected. Just him. Without asking for the rest.

. . .

"Hello?" responded the voice on the other end of the line.

"Naomi?" Kaiba barked, as if he were readying to give orders.

_What if she hangs up on me? Would she dare?_

Naomi sighed silently, raising her eyes towards her bedroom ceiling. So, he didn't understand, or at least seemed to not want to understand.

None of this had any reason behind it. It was just a moment where solitude had had a lack of vigilance and the weight had gotten so heavy she had tried to lighten it for a few moments.

And as luck would have it, it was with this man.

Yet…

"No. No, don't call me."

"I want to invite you," he began.

"I'm sorry, I'm busy," she cut him off dryly, wanting to put a cap on this relationship that never should have even started.

But Kaiba believed, more wisely now, that he shouldn't insist, contrary to his earlier authoritarian tendencies.

"I see," he said again, repressing the irritation the refusal caused.

_Sooner or later, you'll have to see me again, Naomi. I'm not done with you. But it's okay. I have lots of time._

It was with an odd grin plastered on him that Kaiba hung up a few seconds later.

It was decidedly necessary to change tactics. Of course, still staying anonymous.

But how? Until that moment he had never had to become preoccupied with seducing or attracting someone, everyone else kneeling in front of him as they venerated and feared the most tempestuous of the gods. Everyone missed recognizing him for a large portion of what he really was. He wasn't appreciated – he was feared the world over. He could silence with a single glare and had a multitude of lackies that covered the globe he could move at will on his giant strategic chessboard. Besides, it had never really interested him.

But before this simple woman, he could find neither sign nor sufficient word that could attract her attention or keep her close.

Of course he knew. He knew many things. Even things he didn't want to know. That normally would have been a certain kind of advantage for him. This thought, which calmed him, brushed his mind each time he felt that innate desire to dominate.

Only, when he forgot he was that rich young man, indocile and impetuous, and every evening when he found in his mirror the human being that lived in the same body as him, well, no other ulterior motives found their way into the rigidity of his system of beliefs. Everything called for clemency.

_Grr… why can't I simply become interested in something else? It would be so simple. She said I got what I wanted, right? Psht! What I wanted? What _I _want?_

_What does she know?_

_ You've thought about her for two days. Two days have passed and you haven't taken the slightest action to-_

_ Argh! Shut up!  
_ Kaiba got up in a single movement.

_This is completely stupid. Truly childish of you_.

She would never come to him. It was so obvious.

She would never come because she didn't even know where to meet with him anyway.

_So, because she won't go, I'll go. I'll tell her the truth. I won't hold back. I am Seto Kaiba._

Why should he hide it anymore?  
Nothing to lose. Nothing to gain, maybe. That annoyed him for a fraction of a second. But she had to know.

He decided. He wasn't searching further for any other situations this could bring about.

The time had come to act.

Just like that, he found himself in the car, driving towards the mall wherein he knew Naomi was in the middle of window-shopping.

Nothing really mattered now except getting everything back to normal. She'd learn.

. . .

Little Molina occupied a large portion of her thoughts that calm afternoon. The others were directed towards that mysterious man, whom she barely knew anything about but who continued to trouble her.

She hadn't slept a lot since that memorable evening; her body was still looking for that invisible creature enveloped in the smell of her sheets, despite the two wash cycles she had applied to them. Yet she fought hard to forget. Forget something that shouldn't have happened, but had happened, despite all efforts to the contrary.

For a long time, she had practiced abstinence with good reason, refusing to feel, even for a second, a perhaps illusory sense of happiness.

And then this guy comes along, and her senses cave in to his glance, however cold it be.

It was stronger than she was. Stronger than anything. Even now her self-control melted at the sole memory of those fingers, those lips.

But at least he hadn't insisted and hadn't spent all his energy charging back in dutifully. This certainly reassured her. But it also deceived her.

Hadn't she been nothing but a victory prize? She thought herself exclusively available to his slightest caprice and every whim? Wasn't that why he had hung up on her? What could he still want that he hadn't had yet?

Kaiba didn't take long before noticing her at the door of a toy store.

She was still, as always, dressed in black, head to foot. He wasn't surprised in the slightest.

But the mall was crammed, inundated with the curious who were turning to gawk at him.

Head held high, he advanced slowly and quietly. But his feet stopped suddenly when a doubt made him slightly tilt backwards in surprise.

Despite it all, was this really the way he wanted her to discover his real identity?

_Grrr… what's the matter with me? All of this is stupid._

Yet his gaze, now little assured, suddenly noticed the size of the crowd – envious, admiring. The crowd that, he knew it, was preparing to rush towards him.

_Argh!_

In an instant, he turned on his heels to head straight out the nearest exit.

. . .

At a distance, the limousine followed in Naomi's wake as she walked down the sidewalk, probably returning to the hotel.

She was about to cross a small, quiet road when the limousine blocked her path and Kaiba moved out of it determinedly, as if he had just been given a nasty surprise party. At the event, she grew outraged at the brusqueness of it, first of all because it had given her the impression she might get run over by the car. She hadn't immediately placed herself in a defensive position, but her body recoiled strongly.

_Grr… no! Not him!_

Melting. Kaiba felt something hard inside him weaken upon seeing her. His will to take on his cold at the same time as his thoughts trouble him with a quasi-inexpressible chaos, undoubtedly. He was certain of it: if he opened his mouth, he was going to babble like a child.

She kept her half-shocked, half-disconcerted look on him.

Without showing it, Kaiba breathed deeply.

"Can I take you back? There's still a little ways back to the hotel- "

"No," she hissed. "I'd prefer to walk."

_Just leave me alone! You have nothing to do with my life._

"Naomi. I think we should talk," he dared, as if what he had to say were some sort of established thing.

She placed a foot out to the side to get around him, feigning assurance and complete indifference.

"I don't believe so, no. There's nothing to say," she replied, coldly, as if she didn't care.

This time, with a certain rigor in the motion, he took her arm even though he had never wanted to be forceful with her. This stopped Naomi's feet again, who launched an unreal look in his direction, next lowering it onto the hand clasped again around her. She wasn't laughing. This was serious.

_Don't touch me._

But the great Seto Kaiba, the very man who feared no-one, would not be impressed by this woman. He would still avoid trying to apologize.

"Personally, I think there is," he dared again before pulling back his hand.

She frowned slightly.

_Naomi… don't play games with me. You risk too much while doing so…_

"I don't know what about," she persisted.

There was the noise of impatient car horns going off behind the limousine. Drivers who didn't have the courage to get out began screaming their heads off once they realized what they were stuck behind.

But neither Kaiba nor Naomi didn't seem taken aback by them, each holding the other's gaze without looking away, like blood enemies who didn't want either one to flinch in sight of the adversary.

"Get in the car," Kaiba ordered, beginning to fear that some potential do-gooder would intervene.

"NO!" she screamed, placing a foot in front of her in an attempt to continue her route.

_Ugh. Women._

He was wondering what action he could take. The best one, that is.

On the street corner, just behind them, dozens of automobiles were held up, leaving the ones farthest in the back to have the most furious horn-blowing.

And she went. He had too, also. He couldn't block off the road all day trying to keep her there.

It was at that moment he did one of the craziest things he had ever done.

Without warning, he grabbed her tightly in his arms and dragged her inside the limo. Hell with the consequences.

She didn't have the time to react, taken completely by surprise. But she was furious when the door closed behind her and he ordered them to take off.

"What's the meaning of this? Are you a kidnapper now?" she shrieked, barely preventing herself from fighting back tooth and nail.

Almost amused, but more exalted, by his action, he couldn't stop a conqueror's grin from flying onto his face.

_Kidnapping? The idea._

But he could definitely sense she was _not _appreciative in the slightest.

"Calm down," he told her, voice monotone and authoritative. "I'm simply dropping you off at your hotel."

Naomi gave a truly angry sigh. She was horrified that somebody else was trying to impose upon her their way of getting around. If she stayed in this car, she would have to listen to what he had to say. She definitely didn't want that.

"I think I have something to say," he begun again. "And yes, you're going to hear me out."

"You're wrong. There's nothing to add," she responded.

He went on despite her protests.

"About that evening…"

This time, giving herself as much countenance as possible, she decided to end this, once and for all.

"Of course. It was just a _soiree. _Nothing more. End of the road."

_She's rejecting me… rejecting me… again._

"Are you sure about that?"

Kaiba leaned in to her slightly.

"Fine!" she roared. "You want to talk about it? I'll talk to you about it. I'm not your call-girl! Find yourself someone else if that's what you want this time, okay? Me? I actually have things I want to do with my life!"

Kaiba sat stunned, frankly angered, by her words.

_Call-girl? Is that what she… she thinks I'm some sort of…_

But she stopped herself once she saw the slap in the face she had given him, without once touching.

_Oh, he… it's not… I'm sorry… but I can't._

Calmly, although his plan was still foggy, Kaiba managed to keep his sang-froid. Because he knew. Why should he get angry?

"My turn," he said.

She wanted to fight back again, but he continued on.

"I think we left each other on the wrong terms."

_I'm Seto Kaiba. Voila. You understand it now?_

_ Ugh, no. Not like that. Besides, what would that help?_

_ But you can't leave her on 'better terms' without telling her the truth. You know that._

"I don't need a call-girl. I already have everything I need."

_Oh, okay, I see. He's married, of course. Ha! So he lied to me. Like others before him and others after him. Now, he'll promise things to me, like he'll leave his wife, that he never felt anything for her, anything to get back some of that night, I bet._

Of course she looked blindly obstinate. Of course she was playing it rough.

And she understood her words that risked wounding him anyway.

"No, I'm not married," Kaiba affirmed, as if responding to her worries.

_And I never lie. At least normally._

_ Grr… Naomi… I'm Kaiba!_

"Just be quiet. I don't want to hear any more. Let's stop here, okay?"

"I'm not finished," he said, this time quite imperatively. "Whether you like it or not, something happened- "

"Something that never _should _have happened," she interrupted again.

"…that happened all the same," he continued, without really noticing what he was saying.

Naomi sat up ramrod-straight.

Of course she had fallen into that other universe, too. Of course she still clearly felt the shivers throughout her body. But she wasn't going to allow anyone to come first anymore in her life.

So she chose to come off as implacable.

"So what? You'll see plenty more. I'm neither the first nor the last you'll have in bed for the night. Move on to someone else now. Not me."

Cruel.

She lied. So badly.

Yet Kaiba realized to what extent women could appear pitiless. Maybe even more so than those dreadful sharks that crossed his path, whom he only gave tiny morsels to.

Disarmed. She suddenly felt vulnerable towards him, and his eyes lingered on her without the slightest reaction of irritation or surprise. Arms and legs crossed. As if he were waiting for her to end her tirade of bullshit.

_Is he deaf or something? He isn't even mad! Why isn't he reacting?_

_ The way he's looking at me… I have to get out of here._

Strangely, Kaiba stayed silent, contenting himself with finding a piece of paper and a pen from his coat to scrawl something. He held it out to her.

"Tomorrow night, at 6:30. I'll let you meet my little brother. Also, here's a number you can use to reach me. When you want."

Naomi froze in place.

"Do you understand what I said to you?" she asked him.

"Yes, quite well," he responded without the slightest hint of caring. "And here we are."

_Doesn't he care about me? What does he take me for?_

Roland opened the door.

"Have a nice afternoon, Naomi," he said strongly.

It chilled her blood as much as it made it boil. She might try to convince herself he had forced her, but basically, he asked her. Still, despite all appearances. She still had trouble tearing her own flabbergasted expression from his.

He had given her directions to his house, apparently, as well as a telephone number so that she could call him at any time.

That being said, it was out of the question to envisage ever _using _them. And that being said, she fought heatedly to not buckle under his excess of determination.

Difficult to rub it off.

It was then that she lost a bit of her self-mastery.

_Argh! But what do you _want_?_ she screamed to herself, imaging him directly in front of her as she slipped outside.

_Stop playing with me. I hate it._

Kaiba was happy to disconcert her. Besides, the odd grin that jumped on to his face only accentuated Naomi's apparent disarray.

"You think I'm going to ask you up? Is that what you want?" she spat.

This time, Kaiba's face turned into a frown again.

It wasn't an insult. At least, he hadn't taken it as one. It was certainly true that the will to accompany her words with his actions wasn't lacking.

_Everything in its proper place, Naomi. You'll learn to know me._

"See you tomorrow," he repeated, signaling at Roland to close the door businessman-like, desiring to not lose an extra minute of his precious time. It was less of a trifling matter.

. . .

Along the way up to her suite, she never calmed down. The nerve the man had baffled her considerably. She was outraged at herself for not having had a response to his question. She was outraged that he practically slammed the door in her face. And most of all… she was outraged at having become silent to what qualified to her as an advancement – the demi-invitation he threw out seemingly without warning. So it was he who was rejecting her now. But he was still attracting her. What kind of game was this?

She stretched out on her bed, the piece of paper she held between her hands in her scrutiny, and she sighed.

Call him? What an absurd idea. It would only be to verify if the number was a real one. No. That was even more stupid. But what was he to her in life besides?

Nothing good. He only tormented and angered her.

Harshly, she crumpled the paper and threw it into the garbage bin, far from the bed, as if she were playing basketball.

. . .

_And if she comes? And you're not there?  
She'll learn you lied to her._

_ No. I'll be there. I'll tell her myself._

_ Fine. Even better. If you're interested… I don't think she'll appreciate the fact that you lied to her. It's up to you to say it. And… if she doesn't come? Argh! Besides, why would she?_

_ She'll come._

_ You seem so sure of yourself._

No response?

_And all of that is important?_

Still no response?

_You're still the guy that knows everything, normally._

_ Shut up!_

Like he had said oftentimes, back in the day, it would be more difficult to fight against himself playing solo. Then again, it was almost an insurmountable task to appease that fucking conscience of his which wouldn't leave him a single tranquil moment.

_Everything will be fine, and everything will go according to plan. If she keeps her word._

_ Pff! A fortune-teller, are we? And you think you can predict everything?_

_ Arghhhh! Shut up!_

. . .

_ No. Don't touch it. Burn it!_

Naomi's hand trembled slightly as she walked towards the wastebasket.

_Yes, that's it. Because he bothers you so much, go burn it. It'll all be over._

Before she could finish the thought that she was obsessing over so much, the piece of paper found itself again between her fingers. She would never admit to him how she could juggle both accepting and rejecting him, but hesitate so stupidly.

But she had to know. Assure herself of some things. Even if she didn't really see a use in it. Even more idiotically, the phone found itself in her other hand, like magic, and she surprised herself when she placed it by her ear.

.

Kaiba didn't move when the phone rang, at first. He had to receive hundreds of calls daily, being the head of KaibaCorp.

Only, he smiled once he finally realized which of his phones was ringing. It was his personal one, the one he used with Mokuba.

_Naomi._

"Kurami!" he said, without wasting a beat.

But nobody responded to his voice. Of course there had to be someone on the other side of the line. And he knew exactly who she was.

_She has to be double-checking the number_… _pretty funny._

He couldn't help but smile.

But he didn't go so far as to repeat his name and wait for her to expose herself. He doubted he would hear a word come from those ravishing lips.

.

She winced at the sound of his voice.

He didn't seem to have lied to her; it was definitely the same man.

Only, she suddenly felt more frightened, like a hooked fish, and she disconnected the call.

_This is a nightmare. I can't… Don't panic. I don't know what he wants. But I don't have anything anyway. What can I do… think, Naomi._

She breathed in sharply.

_Okay, I'll go. To put a stop to this. This has to end. Now._

_.  
_

Kaiba was still grinning when he hung up the phone.

_Fine. See you tomorrow. _

_

* * *

_And while I'm at it... Happy New Year!_  
_


	5. Chapter 5

This chapter took for EVER, but at least I got it done on schedule.

This story belongs to Melzart; the anime belongs to Kazuki Takahashi.

* * *

**Appearances**

_by Melzart_

**. . . **

Chapter 5

_In the Shadow _

. . .

Tomorrow goes by so fast. We're already there without being there. Minutes are sometimes interminable, especially when one sleeps as little as Seto Kaiba during the night.

With a brief glance, he solidified the innumerable daily meetings into his electronic agenda. It wasn't yet eight in the morning. But for him, it had already been quite a while since he had had breakfast and then found himself in his enormous chair, at the breast of the KaibaCorp edifice, managing the masses of journalistic papers which had piled itself as high as Mount Everest on the corner of his desk.

Work. Work always attacked him endlessly. It was a torturer, and he had never known anything else in his life, save the only passion that had found grace in his eyes: Duel Monsters.

Never, in the beginning, would he have admitted that he saw it as a simple game, Kaiba having found skill and strategy within it – another method to prove his intellectual superiority and his insatiable desire to constantly win. As in everything he did, nothing was due to desire – he could unleash his thirst for power, which unfortunately was almost never satisfied.

And yet, that early morning, a wacky idea crossed his mind.

"Sadi!" he said loudly into the intercom.

"Yes, sir?"

"Cancel all my meetings today. I'm not available for anything."

She had clearly almost fallen out of her seat at the instruction. But she kept her words sealed in her mouth, because she knew they would have provoked more than just impatience on her boss' part.

_Are you feeling alright, sir?_

"Yes, sir, of course," she finally managed to say.

Nobody went up against him. She certainly wouldn't risk it.

"Oh, Sadi. I forgot. Come see me in my office. Immediately."

Something was definitely wrong.

She got up again and opened the door, her lack of assurance evident.

Bending his head, Kaiba was afraid that his "employees" would try to see through him. She only asked respectfully.

"Yes, sir…?" Waiting for more orders.

Kaiba hesitated for a moment.

_This is stupid… argh… I've been acting like a complete imbecile for more than a week now._

_Bah… at this stage…_

"You're a woman…"

She jumped at that express fact.

"Are you not satisfied with my- "

"No. I'm quite satisfied with your work," he retorted, equally quickly.

This infinitively relieved her, though she didn't show it.

"I have something to ask of you," he said, lightly biting his lower lip as though he was already regretting his request.

"Yes, sir. I'm listening."

Kaiba was hanging over his desk, grave, insistent.

"First, what will be said in this office must not leave here. I am counting on you being discrete. Clear enough?"

Sadi had arrived the same day that Seto had been appointed to the position of chief executive officer, seven or eight years ago already. The same day that his adoptive father had passed through the office's large bay window and never could stop his fall. Nobody could have, upon seeing the difference that was between the top floor and the ground below.

But, even though he would never say it, he had a certain respect for her, appreciating her effectiveness as much as her faultless loyalty towards him.

So he thought he could ask her things about women.

"Of course, sir. You can count on me to do anything…"

"Well..." he interrupted.

_Kaiba! Stop this right now! You're making a huge fool of yourself!_

"Aside from luxury and everything it brings, what do women like?" he asked of her, studying Sadi's reaction.

She blushed violently, eyes boring into her lap, visibly ill at ease about having to respond – or, frankly, more – to the delicate question.

"Do you doubt, sir, that you can be appreciated for who you are?"

She had gotten right down to the real question that tormented him. Doubtlessly. If he hadn't had so much self-control, he would have recoiled so harshly he would have fallen out the window himself.

He forbade himself his sought-after relief, however; she understood that all those who approached him or worked for him were not all among amongst his number of "friends", as they had to be paid to fear and respect him. Sadi had to find something good inside of him. Something he had always thought he repressed.

He would have to thank her if he didn't restrain himself.

"Answer simply, Sadi. As honestly as you can," he dared say again.

"Well, sir, I don't think that all women like luxury, power and money. Some do, certainly, sir. But women are certainly not all as avid about material things."

_That's true, Sadi. She doesn't have anything – she's plain… generous… doesn't make an impression… Grr… this isn't the time, Kaiba._

"Alright, I'll rephrase my question," he said. "What would such a woman, as you've described to me, appreciate as a present, let's say?"

"Oh."

Sadi became more and more uncomfortable, as if he were interfering with her private life.

"Don't be afraid. Speak frankly."  
She was both shocked and quite happy to give him advice. This was, of course, what he was doing – exposing a real human part to him that had never before been seen in the building they were sitting in.

An intense need to grin with joy tore across her face; she was quite touched by his request. So she chose to make him look even more human, something she had rarely had the opportunity to be able to do since she arrived to work here.

"Oh, Mr. Kaiba," she exclaimed tenderly. "There're so many things that can't be bought but bring me pleasure. So if that's what you want to talk about – "

Kaiba's thoughts were succinctly interpolated by her comment that not everything can be bought. He had based his success on that fact.

"Really?" he emoted, as if he doubted it. "Like what, for example?"

Sadi sighed heavily. She sensed he had to be reassured, given his beliefs. He had never before taken such drastic measures to learn about a subject, although she was more delicate than his secretary. Which suggested that, for the first time in his life, Kaiba wasn't completely sure of himself.

"I'm listening," he affirmed, not removing his blue stare from his secretary.

"Well…"

_No. I can't speak about tenderness… I don't know if he'd understand the exact point of what I'd be saying._

"A little can go a long way, sir."

Kaiba frowned. He was amused, naturally, but he was also beginning to grow impatient, the desired response taking just a little too long to come out.

Sadi felt herself lightly oppressed.

"A nice breakfast… a walk through the woods… a small flower… a little thought. Something really simple, and something _true_, Mr. Kaiba. Something that reminds you of whom you desire, and who she really is."

_This is all pretty complicated._

"If she doesn't like anything but diamonds, luxuries, and long soirees, Mr. Kaiba, it couldn't be a woman that you would really take to, I think."

_A flower. Breakfast. Dancing. What's so attractive in all that garbage? Gah, _I'm _rich. She has to work with that. That's part of who I am!_

Kaiba stayed silent, but… nothing extravagant could touch Naomi's heart. He was sure of it. So did he _have _to resort to these sentimental things?

"Yes, I think, sir, that the best way to gain somebody's trust is to not be complicated, and above all, to be yourself."

_Myself? Not complicated? Me? Kaiba? Kurami? _

He seemed lost, off the beaten track by miles. And Sadi guessed he was reflecting over what she had just told him.

"Is that all, sir? Can I go back to work?"

_I lied to her from the beginning. Not myself… what have I done? Of course it's me. But she doesn't even know my name._

She waited for a response, but it took a while before it came.

"Yes, Sadi. You can return to work," he found the ability to say despite his torturous thoughts.

He had the distinct impression he had just missed being right. The strange sensation of still not knowing exactly how to act plagued him. As if he hadn't expected the odd answers that the happy secretary had provided him.

Yet an even more shocking desire had seized him.

Sadi turned on her heels, but stopped just before reaching the door.

"Mr. Kaiba…"

Kaiba did not stand, but kept his gaze fixed on the nape of her neck.

"I sincerely believe she will love you for who you are."

Then she walked out, maybe afraid of an enlivened reaction from Kaiba.

He was, though, contemporaneously troubled with something he had to confess: he had never seriously envisioned the possibility to be loved for who he was, having not shown anything but a narrow-minded, heartless, egotistical side of himself the majority of the time. Too glacial. Too egocentric.

But to show that he knew how to be someone else than all of that was to admit that he was a notch below the line dividing mortals from gods. And above all, it was admitting that he had a weakness.

. . .

_Repugnant…_

_Grr… this is stupid!_

_Come on, Kaiba! A little more confidence would do some good, I think._

His watch showed him it was already close to nine o'clock.

He was very early to be showing up in front of this door. And he wasn't certain that Naomi had gotten up, or, contrarily, would appreciate being awoken.

Two small dry knocks against the door.

_Do you remember me? I'm Kaiba. Now you know. And I'm inviting you to breakfast. I won't take no for an answer._

_Grr… are you even listening to yourself? No!_

_What? It's the way I speak, isn't it?  
_ He had to look completely idiotic with this fucking white rose in his hand.

He had chosen simply what seemed to him to be most resembling of the pretty creature. A rose, because it was beautiful, yet surrounded by thorns; white, because it was simple and pure. And he hadn't taken hours to research its symbolism at the boutique; this flower had simply leapt to his attention.

But what was aggravating him the most was residing in the total powerlessness he felt upon calling on her.

_Grr. Open the damn door. I look stupid enough already._

Nobody answered to his recidivism.

_Oh, will he never leave me alone?  
_ Naomi had stopped on the other side of the corridor when she saw Kaiba on her doorstep.

Except this time, she didn't want to burst into laughter or to come across as angry by this supposedly undesirable visit.

She had taken a plate filled by croissants, fruits, and cheese; her breakfast.

She ducked her head, resignedly, when Kaiba raised his own and saw her.

With a swift moment, even though Naomi had already seen him, he whipped his hand – the one holding the rose – behind his back, and grew ill at ease. Of course, it really _had _to be him out there.

She sighed, and approached him, never detaching a warm gaze. Visibly – maybe because it was very early in the morning – she didn't want to seem to fight him off.

"It's kind of early, isn't it?" she said without the slightest provocation.

She wasn't smiling. But something in her tone of voice indicated to him that she wasn't completely disinterested in his presence.

"I'd like to take you- "

But he then saw the plate between her hands.

She, all the same, had the grace to not ridicule him.

"Well, I wanted…" he said again, before he stopped himself.

_Grr. Completely stupid!_

She didn't respond to his demand or to his thoughts.

_Go to hell, Kaiba, you don't have any reason to be here._

As if he had given up, he softly placed the flower on her plate, his gesture chilling.

And without saying another word, he chose to leave.

"I can always leave it out for later," she breathed quietly, talking about her breakfast.

Which stopped Kaiba in mid-step.

_What? She wants to…. she… she…_

"Give me a minute, okay?" she asked him.

But where did this turn-around come from? Was the fight just over? Just like that?

Kaiba couldn't prevent a sweet smile from conquering him as soon as she had disappeared into her apartment once again.

_Maybe Sadi was right_.

_Oh, be careful, Kaiba, this is too easy… prudence!_

That calculating logic always came to the rescue.

Naomi came back out again, wearing a short coat and gloves. It was already beginning to become more cold, though it was still only autumn.

"Ready?"she asked, walking past him.

_What are you hiding from me, Naomi? _

_Nothing for nothing, Kaiba, remember that._

. . .

She chose a very simple restaurant, obstinately refusing to get into the limousine. Kaiba had had to walk all the way there, which actually wasn't all that bad.

Too beautiful. Like the rising sun.

Of course, nothing gave evidence of Kaiba's emotional failure. Nothing in his eyes, the way he moved. But… he would screwed her, there, on the restaurant table. The desire he felt for her was completely maddening. The smell, the touch against him. He would have done anything to lean closer to her face, look into her eyes, and taste her lips.

"You have a brother? I think… I think that's what you said. Is he little?"

"Yeah. A little brother," responded. "Not so small anymore… but…"

She noted, certainly, that he had a certain affection for his brother, due to his spontaneous and gentle smile that had appeared on him just by discussing him; there was a strong family bond that united Kurami to him.

_Talk more, Naomi. I like to hear your voice._

_What am I even saying? You're really going soft now._

"Thanks… for the flower."

"Oh," he exclaimed, not knowing really how to respond.

"It was very nice. But absolutely unnecessary," she said again.

He couldn't find anything to retort. She seemed to like it. That was enough.

"Let's be clear, if you want to," she claimed more firmly, but without any visual signs of aggressiveness.

He nodded slightly.

"I am not interested in any sort of relationship. I know you poorly, and it's not important whether or not that changes. I have nothing against you personally. But I really believe it would better if we just stopped here."

"Why?" he asked, even though he already knew the answer.

"I do not go after people. I do what pleases me, and I like my life as it is," she responded.

Kaiba didn't take offense. Wasn't he the most patient of men when it came to wanting something he had to take in its entirety?

"One does not necessarily preclude the other," he breathed, ready to fight back any refusal.

She wasn't prepared for that.

_What about you, Kaiba? Are you ready to let someone into your life?  
Are you sure this isn't some form of amusement you could just pay for?  
_ "Probably," she said softly.

They were interrupted by the waiter who had come to take their order. Naomi immediately, yet politely, requested a coffee.

"You won't eat?" she said upon seeing Kaiba refuse to order anything.

"I already ate."

She seemed offended.

"Fine, I'll eat later. Just a coffee."

Usually adamant about his life plans, Kaiba knew he might have to make an exception if he wanted to make the best of his invitation.

Besides, he was starving.

"Wait," he said to the server. "I'll have the same thing that she is."

Naomi seemed surprised by the turn-around.

Without looking to excuse himself, Kaiba explained:

"There's always a little bit of space left because I only eat light."

He was lying to her. His alimentation was certainly minimal, but it was regulated, as if on a clock. Like everything else in his existence. But he chose deliberately to accompany her, no matter the consequences to his stomach. The moment was too fragile to allow himself to make the slightest error.

She found his intentions quite amiable.

She had definitely thought he was lying, but he kept with his alibi, so she merely contented to smile politely.

It certainly wasn't the type of lie that angered her.

_Go on, Naomi. Where were we?_

"Why are you always dressed in black?"

Naomi's grin vanished instantly, causing Kaiba to regret his indiscretion.

He knew. He understood also that he had no right to interfere in her private life. Like he had promised himself. Only, with that admiring look, he couldn't help but ask her, especially when he imagined her dressed in other colors that would still manage to enhance her beauty.

He was convinced: everything would suit her perfectly, even just a maple leaf placed in the right spot. She would still be magnificent. *

"It's a color…"

Kaiba felt the weight of her hesitant words; which made him regret again having asked her. He really hadn't had the right.

"… that suits me. Where were we?"

He didn't speak, and continued to observe her.

Could she feel the remorse that stuck in his throat?

"Well, as I was saying," she continued, "I don't have a place for anyone in my life. And I am not ready to make room."

_He is attractive, though. I really have to get away from him._

Aside from the charge of electricity that passed between them, mainly caused by their mutual desire, both felt strangely relaxed. As if the worst of the storm had passed. As if they were talking like old friends.

Without a sound, he leaned in towards her.

"I don't believe that." His voice was very sure.

_I want you, Naomi. Now. And tomorrow._

_Why? God, she's gorgeous…_

She visibly moved back from the advance.

"Do you honestly not _want _to understand?"  
"On the contrary. I understand better than you might believe," he dared say, not backing off a single inch.

_What does he mean? It doesn't make any sense. He has to leave me alone._

"It's true. I hardly know you myself. My lifestyle leaves me no more open to a relationship than yours."

"Exactly. So, it's better if we- "

"Naomi! What would you lose if you tried? Why are you afraid?"

_You don't have to be scared if you're with me, Naomi. Nothing can happen to you._

Naomi sighed, annoyed.

_He almost got me with his rhetoric. _

"I'm not afraid," she said confidently.

"You're lying, Naomi. I know it. Everyone is afraid of something."

"Just stop," she tried to assure him, shaking her head no.

"I insist."

_What does he want from me? Why is he so narrow-minded?_

"I thought you already got what you wanted," she ventured, holding back a jeering smirk.

In reality, hadn't she also?

_How do you know what I want? You don't even know me. Nobody knows_. He avoided looking up at her.

_It's odd. The need I have to feel… his body… his lips… has to stop now. But he seems so alone… so solitary… like you_.

Their lips had, bizarrely, grown closer together, both of them attracted by the same desire to unite themselves, body and soul, as if nothing around them existed anymore.

If the waiter hadn't come back with their orders, who knows where they would have ended up.

Naomi shivered as she jumped away, as did Kaiba, strongly disturbed by his flaming lack of control.

It really hurt her to keep resisting this man.

"My invitation still extends to tonight," he said without hesitation, having finally regained some of his self-control.

"I don't think so," she said, getting up from the table.

She wasn't hungry anymore, and worse, had judged that the situation had gone too far. Again.

"Wouldn't you like to know who I really am?" he said, standing up in tandem.

"I don't think that matters," she answered, more and more troubled.

She seemed frozen in place, asking herself what she should do.

"I'll send a car to pick you up. It'll take you home."

_Say something, Naomi. Say something to me. Anything but no._

Suddenly, she turned away from him.

"…I don't know…"

Then she left the restaurant.

He supposed it was better than a flat refusal. Kaiba believed he had succeeded in persuading her; she didn't seem as resolved to completely reject him.

All that was left was to discover the truth. With as much tact and delicateness as possible.

Which disturbed him, because everything had been part of a lie. An explainable one, luckily.

But why hadn't he told her when they had been speaking so cordially?

It would have been so simple.

Was it because he would like the surprise it would cause?

Of course, the war was not yet won. She hadn't said yes.

. . .

The day up until then had been very long.

_Why didn't you just say no? You know, Naomi, a categorical no. He has to think he has it made now._

_So I'll leave him with false hopes, maybe. He's grown-up enough to straighten himself out._

_Only when he's there… in front of me… do I feel good… It's weird…_

_He's so strong… so terribly strong. That's probably what's attracting you so much, isn't it? No. I think it's something else. I don't know what. I've had the weird feeling of… belonging to him… ever since I first laid eyes on him. I don't know how to shrug that off… wherever I go, he hasn't left my thoughts since that one evening._

_Get over yourself, girl. It's the long time you haven't felt a man's body against yours that's playing games with you. It could have been anyone!_

_No. Not anyone._

Naomi jumped a bit. She was still shivering.

_Well, then, let's decide once and for all. There's maybe only two hours left before that car gets here. Do you want to or not?_

_I don't know. It's been a long time since… I don't have the right. No right. Even if I like him. Even if it could – _

_NO! It can't. You know why._

_Exactly. Okay. I'll go. But this time, no mistakes. Don't let yourself get bamboozled! He will understand me. _

Naomi stepped out of her bath, then got dressed after drying herself off. She was ready. Voluntarily, she took the piece of paper he had given her that had his address. Like normal, she would go there herself. She didn't need a limo.

. . .

A taxi deposited her at the indicated address. She didn't see the driver's worry as she stepped outside in front of the immense home, encircled by a palisade. Before its entrance, a large gated door bore the inscription _K_. This made her certain that it was the right address; 'K' surely stood for Kurami.

Of course he had some sort of fortune. She had never doubted that.

She stepped closer to the iron bars to see a man, completely in black, moving in her direction; he looked like a security guard. Definitely expectable. A little ways off, on either side of the front door, two other uniformed guards, eyes obscured by black glasses, stood waiting.

_Woah. Where _am _I?_

"Hello, ma'am. What may I do for you?"

She sputtered a bit, completely uncertain of what she was doing. Something was fishy here. Despite her instincts, she couldn't figure out why.

"I… I…" she stammered. "I have a meeting with Mr. Kurami. I'm a bit early, but…"

One of the guards lurched forward suddenly.

"Mr. Kurami, you said?" the guard asked, evidently confused.

"Yes, that's right," she said.

"Er… I don't know a Mr. Kurami, ma'am. Let me see the address to verify…"

She held the piece of paper out to him, troubled by the strange scenario.

All of a sudden, the door flew open with a _bang!_ and a young man, around seventeen or eighteen years old, saw her from afar. He began to run in her direction.

"Ah," exclaimed the guard. "You're at the right address, but this the house of master Kaiba."

Naomi's heart stopped pounding.

_What did all of this mean?_

"Hi!" cried the young man as he reached them. With a push of his hand, he opened the gate. "I bet you're Naomi, right?"

He was cordial, bubbly, and very happy.

"Come in, come in, please. Seto told me you would be here a little after six, but I think you're early. But that doesn't matter. Come in!"

"Seto?" she babbled.

"How could I have been so stupid?"

She seemed helpless.

"Something wrong?" Mokuba asked as soon as he saw the thoughts reach her expression.

"You're Seto's brother, right?"

She had begun to tremble. And she wasn't sure whether it was due to the fact of having been deceived, manipulated, and betrayed, or whether it was just blind rage.

_What's wrong with her? She looks like she saw a ghost. Is she okay?_

"Yeah, I am. I'm Mokuba. Seto's little brother."

She took a step backwards.

_You're stupid. Completely fucking crazy. How could I have believed a single word he said to me? He lied to me. From the beginning. Lied!_

"Is this Kurami's house?" she dared say again, pretending and hoping with all her heart that there was a logical explanation, or that she had misheard.

Mokuba wasn't sure he understood exactly what was going on, but he had to begin somewhere.

"No… this is our house. You're at the Kaiba's."

She found in the young man's expression a real worry and compassion even larger than her pain.

_He lied to me. He was playing with me this entire time._

"Ma'am…? Please come with me."

Gently, he took her arm. She looked at him as if he were an extraterrestrial, fear deeply ingrained into her eyes. She began to drool.

Mokuba brought her into the living room.

"Wait for me here just a minute, okay?"

He seemed to understand what was happening now, and understand very well. What his brother must have done shocked him as much as it disgusted him. He didn't understand it at all.

He passed into another room, and furiously punched a number into his cell phone.

"Kaiba!"

"Seto!" Mokuba screamed, outraged by the incident.

Something wasn't right at home. Kaiba had actually felt it a little bit before the call.

"Are you okay, Mokuba? What's – "

"Naomi's here, Seto. What did you _do_? She doesn't even know your _name_!" he shrieked, not exactly proud of his brother at that precise moment.

_Grr… no… no! She had to wait for the car! Grr…_

"Mokuba, it's a misunderstanding- "

_This was not the way she was supposed to learn about this… grr…!_

"Misunderstanding!" cried Mokuba, who had lowered his volume when he realized she could probably hear him from the other room.

"Is she mad?" Kaiba pressed him.

Mokuba said, incensed by the goings-about.

"Yes. And terribly disappointed, too."

_No! _Kaiba thought.

"Okay, I'm on my way. Keep her there at any cost, Mokuba. Do anything you can. I don't want her to leave before I can get there."

"Fine, I'll try," Mokuba said, giving up.

Using a bit of courage, he went to rejoin Naomi, still seated on the sofa, half in a state of shock and half fuming in anger.

"Seto shouldn't take long."

"Never mind," she said, standing, and glancing at him rapidly.

"Please, stay. It would be nice if you joined us for dinner."

Naomi stared at him very severely.

_I wonder what they're having, then. A poisonous viper? Is that what they serve at the Kaibas?_

_He. Lied. To. Me._

"Please. I don't really know what happened, but I'm sure it's all a big mistake," Mokuba confided to her.

_Fine. I'll wait. But it's the last time he'll ever see my face!_

_He. Lied. To. Me!_

. . .

After Mokuba had been eager enough to show her inside, she hadn't moved off of the couch, contenting to give the room a single look-over to sate her curiosity. Despite the hauteur of the place, all of the objects within it were relatively unremarkable. Nothing was too exaggerative in the décor; probably as Kaiba himself had wanted it, or Kurami, or whatever the hell his name was now.

Why had she accept the invitation despite the fact she had no obligation to do so? "Kaiba" had insisted that she had had no other choice but to accept, at least so that she could rid of him.

But at least now there was no longer any ambiguity. She didn't have to play fair with the enormous lie he had hung right in front of her nose.

"Seto shouldn't take long," Mokuba reiterated as he came back into the room, eyes riveted on her.

She really was pretty. But she was also distant; the young man couldn't say whether it was timidity or coldness she felt towards his brother, because he had always been around him. Yet she had the best of reasons to feel angry at him.

But Naomi smiled at him gently, breaking the barrier he had felt around her until then.

_I think she's reserved, at first, _he thought. _I have to know how those two even talk to each other!_

And he smirked at the sole thought of the two of them, one before the other, finding absolutely nothing in common that they could talk about. Their conversations had to be _more_ than enthusiastic… but Mokuba also felt that he was missing something.

Curiosity began to burn his tongue, and he couldn't help but want to try to understand the attraction that the one could exercise on the other.

"Er…. how long have you two been dating? You and Seto?"

_Ha! Dating?_

She was lightly irritated by the question, as legitimate as it was, that the protective little brother had.

"'Dating' isn't exactly the right word," she spat, as she found herself highly offended by the older Kaiba's behavior.

She hadn't wanted to come off as rude, but the words had just tumbled out of her mouth.

"Sorry," Mokuba said quickly. "Didn't mean to offend you."

Naomi saw that a change in her behavior was in order, provided the boy's respect.

He didn't have anything to do with this. He was absolutely not responsible for his brother's actions.

"No, I should excuse myself," she answered at the same speed, but with a tender smile. "But it's not what you think it is."

_As you've surely picked up by now._

"Oh, I get it," he said, more and more intrigued by their odd relationship. "You want something to drink?"

They were suddenly interrupted by a weak cry, evidence of a woman's surprise, which came from the entrance hall.

Mokuba was quite interested in the noise. He stood.

"I… I'll be back, excuse me," he said, rushing for the front door.

She stood brusquely then, too, on her guard. She didn't understand why, but the strange thought that something abnormal was happening didn't leave her.

Again, she tried by all means to reason with herself. _What could happen to a house this large and this well protected? And in the middle of the afternoon? Nah, probably the poor lady just dropped something._

But another more chilling sound came to her. It came from outside. From what she could rapidly figure, she thought she heard a passing whistle. Like a bullet slicing through the air.

"No, let go of me! Let _go _of me!"

Mokuba's voice was coming from the entrance hall.

Something was _definitely _wrong.

With silken steps, she moved nearer. She hadn't even got there when an armed man stormed in front of her, threatening with his revolver.

_Kaiba only brings me trouble._

"Well, well," he said. "Looks like we've got a little bonus."

. . .

With no sudden movements, Naomi chose to let herself be shown into the entrance hall, just so she could see the situation with her own eyes.

Mokuba was gruffly pinned to the ground by a giant of a man who seemed determined at all costs to never let him escape. Another man had his gun pointed at them – Mokuba and the servant, Marie.

Pushed by her attacker, Naomi quickly found herself between them. But she still was studying their every move.

"Anyone upstairs?" demanded the one with the gun.

Neither Marie nor Mokuba responded to his question.

With a flick of his hand, he ordered one of his companions to climb the stairs to make sure of it.

Naomi nudged closer to Mokuba, taking great care to not be noticed or unnecessarily provoke them. She could take both of them without difficulty. She knew that. But their weapons made her hesitate to do so; she couldn't risk one of them being wounded in the scuffle.

She didn't let the man who was climbing the stairs leave her line of sight. She was relying on the fact that he would be far from them and out of sight before she tried anything.

It was just at the moment where one of the other men turned towards the staircase that she chose to act. Lively and precisely, she shoved Mokuba to the floor and found herself in the middle of disarming the man in front of her. Her fist bowled into his stomach, followed by another just in front of the ear.

In less than an instant she found herself baring his weapon, and baring down on the second man.

He went to open his mouth but she pointed the barrel smack in the middle of his face. He understood he was to be disarmed in silence, without fighting back in the slightest.

"Mokuba, take it! And if you need to, use it."

Frozen in fear, his mouth wide open, he was incapable of saying any meaningful phrase. But, trembling, he took the gun from her.

"Go!" she told Marie, who took no time in hiding herself in some far corner of the household.

She took a look up to the top of the stairs. To her satisfaction, the man had not yet come back.

With a single blow, she slammed her weapon into the disarmed man's head before he could alert the others, and flew to the window to see if other dangers awaited outside.

What she suspected proved to be exactly true when she saw two other 'guards' flanking the door.

"Mokuba, another exit, fast."

"Yeah. Come on," he said quietly, heading rapidly towards the kitchen.

Pushed to his limit and shaking in terror, he was wielding the gun clumsily. Naomi didn't fail to notice, and she lightly put a hand on his arm.

"Mokuba," she murmured. "It'll be alright, okay? We're going to get out. Everything will be fine. Trust me. If you have to use it, do not hesitate."

. . .

Kaiba was zestfully biting his nails inside of his limousine, which was beginning to stall. Lots of things were disturbing his sense of tranquility. It only began with Naomi, who had discovered everything when he couldn't manage her.

What would she think of him now?

Again, a terrible pain grasped his insides.

"Faster," he ordered the driver.

. . .

Nimbly, Mokuba tilted his head, his eyes lost somewhere.

He wasn't reassured at all. But he was sure that this strange foreign woman would be there to protect him. He was scared for her as well.

Apparently his brother was taking his sweet time in getting back to the house.

Across the patio, the one that overlooked the garden annexed to the house, she could perceive another 'guard', which served to curb her hopes. As if he had foreseen the danger, Mokuba picked up a heavy rolling pin, on the wall along with other customary kitchen accessories, and gave it to her.

She smiled, following the young man's lead. He was almost Machiavellian.

At her command, Mokuba crammed himself behind and alongside the door, and she opened it in a flash.

The guard never saw it coming. But his shadow fell to the ground.

It was unfortunately at that precise moment, when they were sprinting outside, that the man on the upper floor alerted his coworkers, who immediately began giving chase.

Naomi had noticed the wall that encircled the property; and it wasn't too far away – less than thirty feet – and not very high. She saw in it the perfect opportunity to flee.

Thus, dragging Mokuba by the arm, she began to run towards the palisade.

"No matter what, run, Mokuba, and don't come back!"** she screamed, trying to distance herself from the house.

She was only a few steps away when an intense pain shot up her thigh, causing her to tumble in mid-stride onto the lawn.

"Keep going, Mokuba!"

But he hesitated, snapping around to look at her. He didn't want to abandon her. Completely horrified by the noise of bullets whizzing around them, he knelt down despite himself to support her.

She got up to try again, but fell again a second later, just at the foot of the wall.

"Go! Jump!" she screamed, standing again, furious that he wasn't listening to her.

Mokuba leapt. But only his arms were suspended on the other side; his legs were kicking madly at the fence, searching a pressure point he could use to throw himself across.

. . .

"Stop!" barked Kaiba to the driver when it seemed to him that he had seen a head just make itself visible on the other side of the garden wall.

Something odd was going on. He could sense it.

Naomi rose, a pillar of support underneath Mokuba, his feet cupped in her bloody hands. She pushed with all her might, before falling squarely on her butt once more.

Mokuba fell over onto the other side, tripping over the grass as if it were ice, just in front of the limousine, which then stopped. Kaiba scrambled out as quickly as he could, hurrying to take his little brother inside of the vehicle.

But Mokuba stayed inconsolable.

"Seto… there are five, six, I don't know how many of them!"  
"You're unhurt?"

Mokuba fell in behind him, babbling and acting almost possessed.

"Seto!" he was wailing. "Quickly!"

"Mok-?"

Kaiba grew silent when he saw blood on the floor of the car, exactly where his brother's feet had been.

With a quick glance, he also saw dark spots around his shoulders. But Mokuba didn't seem to be bothered by any apparent injury.

_Naomi_

His marble face crumbled.

"Where's- "

But Mokuba cut him off, screaming, finally able to control his words again.

"She's injured, Seto! She needs help… in the garden…"

Kaiba's body hardened, blood halting in his veins as he grasped the handle to clamber out again.

"Do not leave this car, understood?"

In a single bound, like a high-jumping athlete, he catapulted over the fence, finding himself on his own turf; Roland was taking the long way to join back up with him.

Instantly his eyes locked on the two guards stretched out on his doorstep. While he lamented the loss, Naomi had control of all of his worry.

He practically toppled on top of her once he found her slumped against the wall, collapsed. He thought of nothing but of both her and of Mokuba's security.

Little mattered. All he wanted was to leave.

She had been trying to stop the copious stream of blood pouring from her leg using a black scarf which had probably been around her neck before rushing from the mansion. But the thinness of her clothes, despite it being near the end of autumn, made him think she must be quite cold. With an instinctive movement, he took off his own black trench coat to cover her as he leaned over. He wanted to support her with an arm under her legs, but she shoved him away, appearing to be recovering rather than in pain.

"I'll walk," she told him, ignoring his concern and tossing his overcoat aside.

_This is _not _the time, Naomi!_

It wasn't the time for contradiction, either, so he insisted upon helping her stand, holding her under her arm. This time, she accepted his help with her arm around his neck, while Roland acted as a shield for them, always watchful, always ready.

They got to the car as the police arrived on the scene.

Mokuba flung open the door upon their arrival, and Kaiba helped the young woman slide inside.

"Careful, Mokuba," Kaiba warned as he watched him try to pull her.

"Is it bad?" he questioned, anxious, seeing the blood smeared down the length of her leg.

But she hastened to warmly reassure him otherwise.

"No, no. It's okay, Mokuba. It's okay," she breathed, despite the grimace she tried to hide behind the pain of the wound.

Kaiba took a handkerchief out of a little commode underneath the seat and tried to clean the blood coagulating on her thigh.

Again, she thrust his hand away.

_Don't touch me!_

"No. I'm fine. Just get a doctor," she said, her voice faltering very slightly.

Kaiba's head tilted back to glare at her coldly. This time, he would not accept being rejected, no longer in any mood to negotiate. And she declared forfeit when he began again, silently, hurrying to gently clean the area surrounding the wound.

Mokuba remained tense before the sight, his worried gaze shifting between his brother and Naomi's injury.

She went to put a hand on his arm, but then held back, for fear of leaving a stain.

"Mokuba," she began again, this time with the sweetest of smiles. "I'm doing perfectly well, I assure you. Okay?"

Kaiba approved of the attention she was paying, even if was directed exclusively at his brother. And his composure, which he always believed he could master, fell apart again at the hand of the admirable woman.

His heart had skipped a beat several times in the past few minutes. But at that precise moment, he fell completely, unhesitatingly.

In the glance filled with pride and gratitude he sent her, she didn't have time to realize the turmoil of her emotions inside of her, as she was entirely focused on helping Mokuba relax.

"Hey, Mokuba," she attempted once more, fighting to forget the pain. "Do you know the proper prenatal technique?"

Kaiba suddenly lifted his eyes to look at her, prey to mad laugh he tried to refrain from making.

He couldn't see the wound clearly anymore.

"Alright, watch closely then," she told Mokuba. "Look. You inhale, you exhale. Very lightly. Like this."

Mokuba was completely taken aback, unable to stop laughing as she tried to teach him how to breathe, under the amused eye of Kaiba, whose own lips held an ephemeral upward curve.

He tried to hide it by bowing his head.

The car door opened again. It was two ambulance attendants.

"Come, ma'am," she could hear them say.

Kaiba helped her out of the vehicle and made sure she was firmly strapped into the stretcher.

"Give her the best possible care. The best you have," he ordered one of the two men who had helped him carry her over to the ambulance.

"Yes, sir," he acquiesced promptly.

. . .

The two brothers stayed inside of the car for a while longer, and Kaiba was trying to clean his hands of what remained of Naomi's encrusted blood.

"Fine. I'm listening. What happened, Mokuba?"  
He began to narrate the events, his expression moving from sadness to worry and finally to admiration and surprise. His eyes were shining with the light of a thousand fires.

"Oh, Seto," he cried out. "She's…"

_I can't dare to think what could have happened if she hadn't been there… _Kaiba repeated to himself, only absentmindedly listening now.

Mokuba stopped for a few seconds, as if he were searching for the exact words to use.

"… extraordinary. She saved me."

Again, he couldn't stop looking at him with adoration, closely aligned with how his brother looked who, despite the fact that he was hiding it, must surely have been feeling also.

_If it hadn't been her, they would have gotten away with it. They would have taken my little brother._

"Then," Mokuba was saying, "she kicked their ass."

He shook with a nervous laugh.

"I know, Mokuba. I know."

But a somber shadow had spoiled the picture which had previously been of heroism.

Seto Kaiba remained terrified that it could happen again, because not only would the bandits have taken Mokuba, but they also – and this is what horrified him – they would have gotten away with it. They had discovered Naomi now; would they remember her?

Then his thoughts drifted towards her, there, in hospital.

The same Naomi that had irresolutely rejected him. For whom he felt, he knew now, he would give his world, even though he barely knew her. That beautiful Naomi, proud, courageous… extraordinary strong and formidable…

And probably pissed off, too.

. . .

The door opened noiselessly and Kaiba's silhouette walked in, a white rose in hand.

She couldn't help but notice the irony of it all as she scanned the room and found it filled with the same variety of flower, and all of them from the same sender. She would even bother to throw them out the window just so that they didn't keep piling up.

"You were counting on burying me today, I presume?" she quipped at his expense instead of thanking him for the attention.

A confused smile contorted the lips of the man who was quietly approaching her bed. He stayed taciturn, eyes fixed upon her with an unbearable desire to swoop her into his arms. A desire that had not died down since he had left the palisade behind him; a desire that certainly wasn't completely unknown to him.

"Thanks, I won't forget," he mused, in a tone imprinted with sincere gratitude.

"Oh," she responded, distracted by the vocal inflection he had just assumed.

"… If you need anything, tell me," he said sweetly.

Such words did little to not harm Naomi, who, refusing to let him see her dismay, preferred to tilt her head in the other direction.

Of course, she could tell him that there was nothing he could do to make her forget, nothing that would make her forgive her injury. But her mouth closed once she felt it had opened.

Curiously, Kaiba respected her silence, as if he had read her thoughts.

_Stupid_, he told himself.

"So…" he said again, as if trying to bury his own pain. "The wound…?"

"Oh, for the _third _time, it's _fine_," she responded. "The bullet went in without damaging anything."

"Very good," he sighed with a certain relief.

He breathed with ease now, even though he had known how she was faring since the moment she had stepped foot in the hospital.

"Er… how's Mokuba?"  
"He's fine," he responded. "Still a bit out of it, but he'll be alright."

Once more, he appreciated the fact she worried about his little brother, but nothing transpired in the lines on his face.

His feet, and his thoughts, led him towards the window, where his gaze was lost out into the distance beyond.

A strange idea – preposterous, even – sprang without warning into his head.

Without even turning around to look at her, he asked:

"What if I were to give you a job?"

Naomi stared at the back of Kaiba's neck, but he didn't move.

"I'll give you three times your current salary if you look after my brother."

_He's making fun of me. This isn't possible._

Kaiba's penetrating glance lingered on her face when he finally faced her, happy somehow that such a thought had occurred at him. This way, he could watch over her at the same time because his other bodyguards would be keeping them – her and Mokuba – under surveillance. He would simultaneously be assured of her almost constant presence and disposal to his whims, all the time, as selfish as that sounded. But he would keep an eye on her at the same time; so that nothing would happen to _her_.

He wasn't foolish. It had never been, nor ever would be, a question of using her _just _to protect Mokuba. Even if, he knew, she would probably be the best person in the world to do it.

Naomi gawked at him almost as inflexibly as he looked at her.

_Is he serious? What is he thinking? Do I look like easy pickings?***_

She didn't respond like he hoped she would.

_Accept_, he told himself, as if trying to convince her.

"Does this type of… incident… occur at your home often?" she demanded coldly.

"No," he said without batting an eyelash.

She wasn't visibly pressed to furnish him a response. So he began negotiations.

"Five times your current salary."

Now she was beyond irritated.

"I'm not up for auction!" she protested in outrage, eyes wrinkled in fury.

How could he allow himself to _buy _her like this? With the fact he had loads of cash and could offer her anything?  
_You're certainly beautiful, Naomi. Even when you're beside yourself._

She was spluttering; she couldn't say for certain if she had clearly heard his intentions of if she had really seen those burning embers inside the ocean that was his eyes that were locked onto her own, but her skin was humming with a delicate shiver.

But why had he come? Why was everything so complicated?

As if he had been following her reasoning until that point, he explained:

"Money isn't important, Naomi. I don't care about that. I'm simply worried about my little brother. Who gives a damn how much I have to pay, give up, or even burn to know that he's safe?"

She found herself speechless. The evident concern that had squirmed its way into his voice convinced her that he was telling the truth. But he was no less arrogant.

"Or maybe a private tutor. He has to learn how to defend himself because I'm not always around," he attempted to reason.

She liked the idea.

"Yes. He has to know how to defend himself. That's true," she said approvingly.

For a second, Kaiba thought he had won.

"It's quite generous of you, I'll admit," she said calmly. "But I have to refuse."

"What?"

_Did he not hear me or does he just not take no for an answer?  
_"What?" she snapped back furiously. "Nobody says no to a Kaiba, is that it?"

_Grr…_

They were finally there.

Being hit by a train couldn't have hurt any more. Anger clawed at his entire being. But he still attempted to restrain his emotion; after all, he was the only one to blame for the entire situation. He understood that, at least.

"That's not what I meant," he retorted with an urgent need to explain himself.

"No?"

He shook his head.

"No."

His face returned to ice, completely blank.

"I've realized it's quite dangerous to train around these parts. You have lots of enemies, I believe," she continued.

She lowered her voice, and added:

"…and I'm beginning to think I understand why…"

This time, Kaiba felt the blood rising up to his face, while he clutched his fists in anger. How dare she treat him like a vulgar guttersnipe? And if that weren't enough, she seemed to even doubt his word and his good intentions. Even though he hardly used them.

Naomi noticed his vexation, which was readily apparent.

"Don't worry about the criticism, Kaiba," she acknowledged. "Besides, you can't help it if that's the name you carry around. Oh, I know what you go through. More than you realize."

The muscles in Kaiba's face remained strained, ready to debate her next stinging remark.

"Besides, I'm being nice after all the lies… whoever you are. Kaiba or Kurami, whatever pleases you and whatever works out."

She had been harping about his bitterness up until then. But the boomerang effect wouldn't wait any longer.

"Kaiba," he spat, prideful, between his teeth. He was being mocked, and he knew it.

"Who cares? You liked to me the entire time."

"Has that changed anything?" he exclaimed, as if trying to convince himself as well.

He wouldn't have apologized to himself. But it was certainly what he looking for.

She whipped her head around, incapable of honestly replying.

"…I would have stayed far away," she muttered cynically.

_Far? Why?  
_"Believe what you want. I only lied about my name, nothing else. My offer still stands," he dared reaffirm.

"I refuse, as good as your intentions may be."

_She… said no? How… could she say no? Admit it… you're not impressing her. Look, she doesn't give a fuck about your power… how dare she… she'll regr-_

He wanted to object but she wouldn't give him the time, fatigued as she was from shock and from just having argued with him.

"I want you to go now."

Kaiba stood in place. She remained defiant, as he himself would have been. Just a turn of events?

And then she rejected him again, sending him off as if he were a servant.

_No. You can't pretend you're her boss any longer. It won't work. Then again… do you really think you're able to? Yes, I'm capable. I've known things far better and far worse and I have… Admit it, Seto. She isn't like them, you know._

Insolent, he pretended to be proud until the end, just until after he crossed underneath the doorframe once again.

"I hope that you'll find some common sense as fast as possible. For your own sake."

As if she had found something immediately threatening in his words, Naomi looked back to glare at him in her rage. But he had already left, and hadn't turned back.

She would have slapped him if he had gotten close enough.

_You'll be mine, Naomi. You will be completely, entirely mine_, Kaiba promised as he ducked on in his way into the backseat of his limousine.

* * *

* Reference to old nude depictions of Eve.

** Does this remind anyone *else* of the Lion King?

*** Another odd French phrase I actually didn't know. Original: "Do I look like a Chinese buffet?"


	6. Chapter 6

Ch. 6 of Appearances, by Melzart. This one was luckily rather short, my life is staying busy, so I got it done rather fast. So if it seems kind of weird, ignore that. Yeah.

Appearances is property of Melzart. Yugioh is property of Kazuki Takahashi.

* * *

**Appearances**

_by Melzart_

**. . . **

Chapter 6

_Interlude_

. . .

_I hope that you'll find some common sense as fast as possible. For your own sake…_

_Does he treat me like garbage or what? He thinks I haven't had enough? Besides, what did he mean? Was he threatening me?... ugh, he can be such a horrible person when he puts his mind to it._

She was awoken by a light shaking of her arm; she had to have been sleeping like a rock to not notice the inopportune presence.

When she opened her eyes, she discovered Mokuba bent over her, observant.

"Hi!" he exclaimed, quite happy that he had helped her awaken. "I knocked but I didn't get an answer, so… sorry for waking you up."

"Oh, that's alright, Mokuba. Hi to you too," she responded, still sleepy. "Besides, you did well. I have to leave now anyway."

Quitely, she sat up to a sitting position, still under the young man's contemplative eye.

"But… what are you doing here?" she demanded, her face betraying a hint of worry. "Was it your brother who - ?"

Mokuba instantly corrected her.

"No. In fact, he doesn't even know I'm here."

"Oh," she said reproachfully. "You didn't come alone, I hope?"

Mokuba felt his heart melt, enchanted to be prey to her worries.

_Aww, she's worried about me, _he thought, smiling.

"Don't worry, I have guards with me," he admitted, which was intending to be reassuring to her, but only ended up embarrassing him. "Seto won't let me go anywhere without them."

She grinned in relief.

"Listen to your brother. He's only protecting you," she told him.

Curiously, Mokuba heard a certain admiration in her voice.

He reassured her again.

"Yes, I know," he began. "Seto's always been there for me. He's… even more than a brother."

It was obvious that these two brothers loved each other equally as strongly, judging from the enthusiasm on Mokuba's face.

"Tell me. You're not in school today?" she continued.

"Yeah… but since I absolutely had to see you, I came before I go there."

Without warning, Mokuba bent down closer, cheeks reddening at the sole thought of what he was thinking of doing. He put his arms around her, and kissed her lightly on the cheek.

"I…. I had to thank you for what you did for me the other day."

"Oh… it was nothing, Mokuba," she responded, trying in vain to hide her own embarrassment.

"You're kidding!" he yelled, incredulous. "Really, you did a lot. And I recognize that, from the bottom of my heart, as much as my brother does."

Naomi gave no response to his enthusiasm; she merely nodded slowly.

But Mokuba didn't stop expressing his gratitude. A boy filled with mischief and wonder, he continued:

"Hey, can you break wooden boards?"

Naomi didn't know how to stop an amused chuckle from spreading forth from her.

He was jubilant, and very excited to learn more of what she could do.

"I bet your brother can," she said, masking the fact that her comment was to be taken as ironic.

_Just with his head_.

Naomi held back this nonetheless hilarious thought, never letting it show.

"Seto?" he asked.

"Yes," she confirmed. "Your brother is… strong."

_Hesitant? Normally… you appreciated him? No, not as a foe. Master? Hah! Never in your life. Besides, he lied to you, remember?_

Mokuba seemed to take these words with great joy and pride. But then he grew serious.

"Seto really appreciates what you did… I think he likes you."

_Weird way to show it, definitely… what would have happened if he did?_

She looked back up at him warmly.

"It's him who - "

But the adolescent immediately cut her off.

"No. He didn't say anything. But I know my brother. I know."

_That's impossible, Mokuba. Come back to reality._

He seemed to be awaiting a comment, a returning gesture. He grew uncomfortable at Naomi's silence.

"And you… you…"

"Mokuba," she sighed. "Your brother's charming. Arrogant, but charming."

_I could slap him every now and then, but…_

A ray of sunlight couldn't light up his heart as completely.

"So…. you like him too?"  
_ I admit, he's quite a man… er… what did I just say?_

Softly, she bowed her head.

"Things aren't that simple, Mokuba," she breathed, almost regretfully. "I can't explain it to you, but… it's not like that."

This time, Mokuba saw that there were limits that were not to be passed, and he preferred to let the quietude simmer between them for several seconds.

"Seto was upset when he got back to the mansion yesterday."

_Do you know why? _she heard herself say, although she could never have her mouth form the words.

Naomi was suddenly overwhelmed by the weight of remorse, grasping her heart with an invisible claw. They had fought. She couldn't deny that she had purposefully angered him. Maybe. Maybe it definitely wasn't entirely her fault.

Strangely, she almost forgave herself.

"We had a…. we fought… and…"

_He lied to me! Lied!_

Against his customary actions, he decided to not ask any more questions, seeing as there was more seriousness to this affair than there had seemed, and realizing he was the current representative of his elder sibling's reputation.

"My brother's not mean. We've always been there for each other, ever since the death of our parents when we were younger. He's always looked out for me like a dad."

Naomi kept her eyes fixed on the sheets tossed together at the foot of the bed, not daring to break the solemn moment. Though she seemed distant, not one of his words had escaped her.

"He's all I have," he continued. "And all I love."

His voice was filled with tenderness, as if he were re-evoking his memories.

"And I thought… you should know that," he finished.

Silence dug itself between the two once more.

Suddenly, Mokuba leapt up, raising his eyes towards the clock. 8:10.

"Oh! Gotta go!" he shouted as he raced for the door. "Thanks again for everything!"

She watched him leave, practically daydreaming. He was almost out of sight when she decided to hold him back.

"Mokuba!"

He returned to glance back at her.

Not even an angel could light up a person with such happiness.

"Your brother is very lucky to have you, too."

He shook his head resolutely, then left.

. . .

She took several minutes to mull over the curious visitation. Destabilized… yes, she was still drawn in by the heated, bubbly affection of the young man.

In a graceful movement she drew her fingers to her temples, and began to energetically massage them, murmuring:

_Get away from Kaiba. Get away from Kaiba. I have to get away from – _

"Would you like your lunch, ma'am?"

She brusquely stopped mumbling to look up at the nurse who had entered her room, irritated upon realizing that she couldn't have possibly missed the snippets of dialogue that had just taken place.

. . .

"You did what?" Kaiba hissed, furious.

_Grr… she'll think I sent him._

"Relax, big bro," he defended. "I told you, I went there with my bodyguards."

But Seto would not hear him out. Calming himself with some difficulty, and cradling his head in his hands, he stood up quickly from his seat to join his brother.

"Mokuba!"

He took him by the shoulders without hurting him, but began to roughly chastise him.

"You remember my instructions, don't you? I don't want you taking any useless risks. Not now. Understand?"

Filled with sorrow, Mokuba sadly let his head hang down slightly more.

"Yes, big brother."

Kaiba returned to sit behind his computer.

"But I wanted to thank her," Mokuba objected again, as if he wanted to completely free himself from any blame in Kaiba's eyes.

"I already did that, Mokuba," he responded dryly. "She knows that perfectly well."

_And then she swept me aside. Lied… I lied to her. I deserve it. Grr… stop it!_

Kaiba placed his fingers on the keyboard, the conversation over.

Mokuba seemed indiscreet for a few moments as he finished the remaining food on his plate.

"You really like her, don't you?"

No sound.

Kaiba froze for a fraction of a second, not knowing what to say. His eyes then re-focused on his screen.

_I can't tell anybody about that. Especially not her. She would be all too happy to roast me alive if she ever knew… besides, what's there about her, anyway? She's just a woman._

"I think she loves you too, Seto," whispered Mokuba, anxiously scanning his brother's slightest face.

And like he had predicted, Mokuba saw him react to the statement. His eyes had left the screen to stare directly at his smaller brother, and there was a weak redness in the cheeks – for just a fleeting moment – that encouraged Mokuba to keep on being amused.

But persuaded that he had already shown too much interest – Kaiba being certain that Mokuba had noticed it – he returned back to his computer screen.

_I doubt it. Especially now. I really deserve it._

"It's she who - " he babbled. Mokuba would never cease trying.

"No. She didn't tell me anything. But…." he said, dreaming.

_But what? What did he hear or see that I can't?_

He was incapable of continuing, and he would have been even if there wasn't someone staring at him fixedly, attentively watching.

Instants went by where the only noise was the sound of Kaiba's fingers drumming on the keys.

_She's complicated… she doesn't need anybody. Like me._

"It's not that simple, Mokuba," he confessed suddenly, breaking the silence.

This time, Mokuba sneered slightly.

"That's what she said," he said, amused by the remark.*

Kaiba shifted his eyes towards him, and though he wanted to give off his normal feeling of constant coldness, he couldn't quite pull it off.

"You guys have at least one thing in common," Mokuba said again loudly as he remembered asking himself how the two could possibly communicate the night before.

Donning his face of ice and sighing briefly, Kaiba went back to work.

_We have more in common than you can possibly understand, Mokuba. But she wouldn't admit that… and neither will I._

"She also told me," Mokuba began again, "that you guys got into a fight yesterday."

_Stop talking to me about her. I'm busy, can't you see that?_

Anger darkened in his face so rapidly that it could have short-circuited every PC for miles around.

_I lied to her_

But with much strength of will, he started to calm himself, although his eyebrows were still wrinkled with discontent.

_No. Tell me, Mokuba. What else did she say? Tell me!_

Mokuba would not have given his place so emotionally close to the terrifying man for anything in the world; he thanked the heavens that he would never have to be his foe or the object of his irritation.

With one movement, he rose, ready to leave the room.

"I'm going to do homework," he muttered.

"Fine," breathed Kaiba, who continued to work despite the fact the screen was hidden behind the raging tempest storming in his head.

As soon as he was alone, he gradually decompressed, losing himself with an empty gaze into nothing in particular.

_Maybe after a good night's sleep, she would have thought back a bit…? And what if she doesn't really hate me? _

_

* * *

_

*This isn't funny because it's the annoying American meme 'that's what she said', but because what Kaiba said really _is _what Naomi said. And maybe when Mokuba says it he finds himself saying the meme, and the irony that it's still applicable makes him want to laugh.


	7. Chapter 7

Haven't been around for a while, but hey, what's life without problems? I'm pretty much a week behind schedule on this, so I'll see how much I can get done on _Appearances _in the coming week.

Kazuki Takahashi owns Yugioh; Melzart owns this story.

For those who are interested, it's right around now that Kaiba starts to become _extremely _creeper and, personally, OOC, but hey. More practice for me, and reading for you!

* * *

**Appearances**

_by Melzart_

**. . . **

Chapter 7

_The Target _

. . .

Several days off would end up being beneficial: time could heal the wound, and she could resume doing normal activities.

Kaiba hadn't forgotten her and left evident traces to remind her of his presence, such as a white rose on the threshold of the door or at reception, not counting the messages and phone calls when he tried to join her. But she didn't share his interest. Besides, she didn't even answer the telephone, convinced that he would be on the other line.

If her heart sometimes grew tender when she thought of the relationship between the two brothers, she came just as quickly to reason: Kaiba could be the most seductive of men, but she stayed determined to stay away from him, even if she surprised herself too often by dreaming of him, at night in the hollows of her bed, and the touch of his fingers on her body. But she would never admit that to him. So she firmly scolded herself for chasing the slightest little temptation; it took all of her gymnastic spirit to consistently and mentally convince herself to stay far away from him. He was abominable, egotistical… nothing good could come out of a relationship with him. In the end, it was something she had decided to keep after her hospital stay. Of course it didn't appear too efficient, even if she did try to convey the impression, to continue to veil her emotions.

. . .

Outside of Kaiba's recurring appearances, there was also something else that had irritated her since her release: a strange, uncomfortable feeling, about other people. A feeling of immediate danger which still hadn't gone away.

Each time that she stepped outside, her antennae instantly sprang to attention. It had become second nature to her, and had been that way for quite a while. But unlike normal, this disturbed her. She had even thought about calling him, just to shake it off. It was just only when she forgot that she didn't need him, in a moment's weakness, that she could correct it.

Kaiba had opted for the ultimate in secrecy: in Naomi's case, it was an asset, and he knew that perfectly well. Actually, if it were possible, and barring the fact he feared no one, he doubted his actions concerning the young woman, as if by misfortune she had just found out that he had been watching her much closer than she could have imagined.

Certain guards had become cooks, others servants, and one even a bellboy, to quench the suspicions she would have been sure to have. It was art. He had surpassed himself. He took from it the largest of satisfactions.

All of his senses, especially the most protective, stayed alert. Except this time, he had two people to watch over: Mokuba, being under the strictest surveillance; and Naomi.

And he hoped she wouldn't notice.

Despite the animating desire he had to rush into the room, shove her on the bed and ardently knock her brains out, he kept his cool as he approached her, believing that time would help make her come back to him. If he showed himself to be diligent in awaiting her approach, he didn't want to be brusque; he knew that would cause him to lose. If he hadn't already.

But she still didn't reply to a single one of his calls. It had become even irritating because he knew perfectly well that she was in her room; needing to know her slightest movement had become more frustrating than he could have ever imagined.

He had to, however, admit that his patience had won when he found the receiver in his hand again. Annoyed, and at the height of his exasperation, he finally opted for action. At least she would be obligated to see him.

. . .

She decided to give up working on the computer to take a bath and relax. Too many things were rushing through her head; nothing beneficial. At least, in her opinion. In the heat of the water which was foamy up to the brim of the tub, she closed her eyes, and let herself peacefully sink.

Kaiba knocked on the door, repeatedly, with no results.

After several minutes of waiting, having had enough, he turned towards Sam, his spy-boy, to open the door after being assured she was still inside.

Cautiously, he entered the suite, passing through the foyer. The computer was on, the bed was empty. No trace of Naomi.

There was nothing left but the bathroom, and the door was closed.

He hesitated a long moment before putting his fingers on the doorknob. The thought of finding himself the target of her fury had stopped his élan.

"Naomi?" he asked, several times.

Only silence answered.

Slowly, he opened the door. She lay in her bath, eyelids shut, completely immobile.

_If she's sleeping but then she sees me… I'm dead. Come on! You're Kaiba! You can get away with anything._

Suddenly, the wind of worry rustled by him.

_And what if she's…? _

He immediately chased the thought from his mind.

Virtually on tiptoe, he carefully advanced up to the tub, holding back his breath.

Her body was completely covered by soap suds, depriving him of letting him see her in her totality. The thought made him grimace and redden rather stupidly.

_What's wrong with me? _I _wouldn't like being intruded upon like this…_

Only he didn't need to see her body to remember every inch of it. It haunted him, day and night. Even though he tried, with all the methods he knew, to take her clothes off.

His memory of it was anchored sufficiently well enough inside his mind and his flesh, strengthening his flagrant desire. If she surprised him, then, at that instant, she would have no difficulty sensing his immense agitation.

With his hand, which had begun to tremble, he swept his fingers over her mouth without touching, and sighed with relief when he felt her breathe. She was sleeping.

And she was so beautiful.

_Don't look at her… she's just, after all, a woman. And you… are a man… no, not like that… don't look at her_, he tried to persuade himself as he stood up, incapable of detaching his eyes from her.

_Okay. Good. Now, turn around and walk to the door_, he now ordered himself. _It's alright. You can do it. Don't turn around._

Completely tense, he managed to leave the room; to his relief and despite the fact he didn't quite understand what had gotten into him in the first place.

_Wake her up. How? No, don't go back there. I know she's pretty. She's beautiful. _

He decided upon startling her awake by slamming the bathroom door shut. Surely that would work. At least, he would no longer be suffering this endless torment, as long as he didn't find himself before her again.

With a jump, Naomi awoke instantaneously, her mind reintegrating with her body a bit slowly. An intense pain went through her thigh; she had stood so quickly that she had forgotten the wound.

"Oooow!" she screamed in pain.

Kaiba had heard her hurried movements and then her wail. Without thinking, he opened the door suddenly and found himself before her, just as dumbstruck as she probably was when she saw him.

"What the – ?" she shrieked again.

Kaiba lowered his eyes to the ground, completely aware of his blunder. But instead of excusing himself, his gaze wandered feebly up the length of her legs, then her stomach, then her chest; his eyes grew at each stage, until he was staring at her in the eye: she was naked. Entirely naked.

With a rough movement, she snatched up a nearby towel and gathered it around her, staring at him apoplectically.

"I…" Kaiba started, before understand that she was in such a state that any explanation was to be in vain.

Naomi's face had darkened so speedily that he didn't dare shout, either.

"Get out!" she shouted, over and over.

He sealed his lips against hers in a sort of forbidden kiss. Almost automatically and without the time to comprehend the situation, she found herself locked against him, taken more than aback.

Kaiba broke the embrace long enough to languorously shift his face further forward, smelling her neck as if it were a flower.

_She isn't defending herself. Is she still… trembling?_

A sweet conqueror's smile lit up Kaiba's face, who was ardently wishing he could find his own body naked against hers.

Naomi flinched back violently when she felt Kaiba's evident desire pressing against her stomach; Kaiba quickly detached himself in suit.

His clothes were wet now, but he hardly noticed.

"I know," he murmured into the crook of her ear. "I'm going."

Naomi stood in the middle of the room, utterly paralyzed.

_What a monster. I bet he thinks he can get away with anything!_

But wasn't his charm wrapped up in that plain little assurance?  
Again, the odd and all-encompassing sensation of wanting to feel his hands on her body, his hot and humid mouth sweeping over her neck. And the intense heat, an eternal tickling in the pit of her stomach.

Dangerously seductive. Yes, it was becoming ever more dangerous to find herself in the same room as Kaiba.

_No. That's not possible. It's surely the medication. It has to be… no, you're lying… you know it's… no, no. That's enough. Oh really? But you already let him-_

Snapping out of her reverie, she let a sigh trail out. But no relief came to her; no peace.

Kaiba fought bravely with himself to not continue intruding and rip the towel off her flimsy little body.

_It's only one small action. It's easy. She wants you, too. Maybe she's even waiting… no. I want her to come to me. That way she'll be all mine…_

Betrayed by his desires, he saw his hands put themselves on her again, mouth unite with her skin.

Almost enraged, he let himself be carried by the memories.

_She's driving you… completely… insane._

It took him a minute to succeed in moderating his thoughts and return to his normal state.

He finally decided to use a chair and wait there patiently, gaze fixed on the door, like a wolf eyeing its prey with a piercing glare.

_She wants you and you know it_

Naomi kept a disciplinary eye on him.

"You have no right to walk into people's homes lie this!" she reproached firmly.

He stood up to his full height, resolved to not hear a single critique concerning his behavior, even though he deserved it. Instead of glancing away sheepishly, he kept his icy stare on her.

"You were sleeping in the bathtub," he remembered.

"So?" she spat, offended. "That's off-topic!"

She understood that he was probably worried, given his silence, and that's what had convinced him to barge in. Only normal people didn't act like that.

"I don't want you coming in here like this is your house. That isn't going to work," she told him again, taking care to remain as annoyed as possible.

But he neither moved nor showed the slightest reticence.

"I want you out of my life, Kaiba," she breathed, insistent.

Nothing was comparable to the torture she was inflicting.

"If you don't stop, I'll kiss you," he dared.

Naomi wrinkled her eyebrows, ticked off by the remark.

"Did you understand what I just said?" she asked.

He took a step towards her, defiant.

"Do _you_?" he continued.

Somewhat won over, she thought it better to back down. Nobody could play hardball with this guy. She knew that.

She let out another long sigh, shaking her head slightly from side to side.

"What do you _want _from me?" she gasped, vexed from the wild goose chase.

_I want all of you, Naomi_

She dearly regretted the question when she looked at him again. He hadn't said anything, but she had clearly heard.

His persistence was beginning to mystify her. She was growing more and more ill at ease.

"Why are you here?" she asked, she tried again.

Kaiba sensed her feelings of disarray, and decided to keep things simple.

"I came to see how you were doing, given you aren't given to picking up the phone."

She almost replied too snidely to the remark, but watered it down before speaking.

"As you can see, I'm completely fine."

But Kaiba was not to be demoralized by the fake comments.

"And if I were to invite you to eat with us – "

"I'm not hungry, I'll eat later."

It was becoming more and more difficult for her to keep control of herself. She hoped he would give up and would just go away. Only – and she knew this – that wasn't on his mind.

"You have to bored here all alone," he asked as he took another step towards her, inoffensively.

"I want you to get out _now_," she dared.

But Kaiba had played the 'inattentive' card, of his own free will, and was now directly in front of her, their bodies only inches apart.

"What did you say?" he asked, in a tone filled with innocence and plunging his gaze deep into her own eyes.

_Annoying much?_

It already had taken her so much courage to ask him to leave the first time that she asked herself how she could actually repeat herself. He took an evident pleasure in watching her wander haltingly through her own thoughts.

Kaiba definitely knew that if she had truly wanted to see him scurry out with his tail between his legs, she would have said what she had directly, without remorse, with no regrets. But she stayed there, her breathing increasingly labored, lowering her eyes and then raising them again.

But she still refused to admit her weakness.

"I want you to leave," she said, shielding her face.

A light rosy tint shaded her cheeks. She began to shake.

_Am I troubling her this much? _he asked himself, remembering what had just occurred involving the bathtub. _We'll see_.

Softly, he placed his hands on either arm, and his face bent down towards hers, placing her cheeks beneath his nose.

_I like your scent, Naomi._

She stuck her nose up. And a strange shiver ran the length of her body. _Stop playing with me._

Her lips did not move.

"You were saying?" he murmured into her ear. "Oh! You want me to leave, right?"

On the verge of fainting, or burying into his neck, she replied timidly:

"Yes…"

But he locked himself around her again. He could feel her. All of her.

_Does she honestly think I don't know how she feels?_

"Say it again," he breathed, tenderly.

She was going to faint; there was nothing she could do about it.

"I would like you to…"

Kaiba's lips, descending onto her neck, interrupted her.

"Really?" he said. "Say it!"

_Please let go of me. Let go of me…_

"Please leave," she succeeded in telling him.

There. She was begging, and it was too late to hold back her words.

_Too late. You said it_, he thought, contentedly surprised. Such a word didn't escape him. He defied her more firmly now, cupping her chin in his fingers.

"Look me in the eyes if you want me to leave. It should be easy if you hate me so much," he said, staring at her.

Naomi blushed furiously. She couldn't, anymore.

He could almost laugh at loud as he saw her face deny it. But he only smiled; maybe it would make things a tad easier on her.

"Alright," he sighed. "Just a kiss… and I'll go. I promise."

Naomi's body jerked slightly. It was true, she had bowed away at that precise instant. He was deliberately playing with her. And she didn't doubt the extent to which his happiness would rise if she were to faint idiotically into his arms.

"Really?" she said meekly.

Kaiba suddenly regretted having _granted_ her the liberty, seeing as she was desperate to have it. But he only had one word, even if it was strained by the irresistible desire to make a tiny exception to the rule. Just this once.

If she had found herself in a man's body, she could have felt all the pleasure he was feeling in watching her squirm maladroitly in the trap he had concocted.

He wasn't going to take his clothes off, right?

"Yes," he breathed, waiting for her reaction.

She offered him her lips.

"But it's just so that you go," she sighed with a glimmer in her eyes, as if she had sacrificed herself for a good cause.

"Of course," he said, victim to his own uncertainty.

A new shiver snaked up Naomi as he held her more tightly against him and their lips touched in a torrid passion.

Kaiba's hands were insistent all the way down her back.

_Drag her to the bed… she's dying to… you know it._

_No… I have to stop… I have… I can't stop him… he is… he's-?_

She was cut off in her thoughts when she felt herself lifted off the ground and placed lightly on the bed.

Kaiba's desire was becoming more fervent with each touch his hands made on her body.

_Don't deny me, Naomi. Not now. Not ever._

Their breathing was divided by avid kisses between their mouths.

But she struggled righteously against his advances, to Kaiba's disappointment as he felt her resist.

_No. Not this. No._

"Stop," she managed to babble as he devoured her neck in burning kisses.

_I'm a goner if he keeps going…_

"No," he said simply, entirely devoted to the cause of eternalizing their pleasure.

Again, Naomi felt her strength leave her.

_Why are you doing this to me, Seto?_

"You promised me."  
Kaiba froze at the words. Yes, he had sworn to it. But…

_I lied…_

_ Why did I promise anything to her knowing that I couldn't keep it?  
_ The trap had turned against him.

But, a good sport, he resigned without protest, the 'faithful man' that he was. Except he was shaking furiously in his skin for all of the profound desire he felt for her.

He stopped all movement, horribly ashamed but kept prisoner by his word; he was still wondering how he _could _have stopped.

"Fine," he hissed into her ear. "But it'll only wait until next time…"

_And you know it._

Naomi lay there, silent, shaking and giving a long yet inaudible sigh of relief when Kaiba decided to separate from her.

It was so unfair.

_Give me back my word. Hold me back._

He hadn't lost his capacity to keep a proud, haughty expression on the outside; but inside – _there _– he had fallen on his knees, begging. To hell with pride. It was only an obstacle to happiness.

She remained breathless, incapable of moving from the bed.

_I have to leave. I have to. I can't hold out for long. This game is too dangerous. Kaiba… I can't._

In a single bound, and once again forgetting the pain that her injury caused, she dashed to the door; and he, terrified, seemed completely taken aback by the sudden change.

"Sorry," she tried breathing.

Never had he seen her so… hopeless. And seeing her this way calmed his spirit; because he knew.

_Tell me to stay… it's so simple._

He waited, focused on the movement of her lips as she breathed nervously, as if she were about to crack open.

"… but…. I…"

_I can't. Forgive me._

Suddenly, she seemed to regain control of her emotions. Her mouth opened… and then closed. And what came afterwards was absolutely nothing like what he had been hoping to hear so fervently.

"Say hi to Mokuba for me."

And she bowed her head, and didn't raise it again.

. . .

Disappointment didn't leave Kaiba's face as he walked through the hotel's corridors. He would have shattered everything in his path if he hadn't had such a grand ability to master himself.

_Why do you hound me? Fight me? I'm here now. It'll be alright. Naomi, open your eyes. You can't run away from me forever._

. . .

She was laying on the ground, prey to a river of tears which refused obstinately to flood past her eyes.

_Leave. Leave. As soon as I'm better. Yes. I have to leave. Fast._

. . .

Exceptionally for any given morning, Kaiba was taking longer than he usually required at home before leaving for the office.

Mokuba had been pleasantly surprised to find him at the table when he had come downstairs, but was nonplussed at his foul mood, which hadn't seemed to have changed since the previous night.

_I'm sure it's about Naomi, _he thought.

Kaiba was poking at his keyboard, worried. He seemed so annoyed that if the keys on his computer were edible, he could have engulfed all of them in several seconds.

. . .

Naomi verified one last time that she had everything she needed for her trip.

Luckily, her wound was rapidly healing. She still felt a bit of a stretching sensation when she walked – which caused her to limp slightly – but it was nothing which resembled a major handicap.

She swallowed a small lunch, took a shower, and re-clothed herself in black pants and a sweater of the same color, perfectly accentuating her body. Then, pulling her hair back and slipping it through a scrunchie, took a last look around the room: a travel bag and two suitcases that she was going to ship, via the hotel's reception, once she had chosen a new place to move.

She was ready.

Then, she left.

. . .

_Brr…. _

Mokuba shivered, as he normally did these days after the attack, as two limousines, one behind the other, filled with bodyguards, stopped in front of his school.

_Good job being subtle. Not. _

Leave it to his brother to make him go through something like this. Even if he knew the reasons for doing so thoroughly… nevertheless, it was a living nightmare.

He hadn't stepped foot out of the car when a pretty young girl, which he had met recently, came running towards him. She seemed to really like him, given the joyful expression she had donned once he had first appeared.

She hadn't yet approached him when one of his guards, lifting his arm to stop her from passing, caused her to fall.

"Hey!" Mokuba shouted, irritated.

He ran towards Samantha to help her get up, staring poisonously at the guard that had caused the incident.

"My apologies, sir," he said, bowing.

"Ugh," Mokuba responded.

_I hate how Seto hires these types of people._

. . .

Naomi quickly found herself on the ground floor.

_Again? What's - ? _

Seated comfortably and reading a newspaper, a man, who she could have swore was also seated there the night before, seemed to be guarding the entrance.

And then there was the odd feeling that she was being watched.

She decided to change direction, if only to calm herself, and judged it more prudent to use the escalator that led underground. Walking unsurely, she moved down the stairs; she looked for an exit and also assured herself that she was no longer being watched.

At the end of the corridor, she saw a door that must have led around the outside of the hotel. When she reached it, a man's voice, quite grave, commanded her to stop.

Calmly, she turned around to look at him, staying on her guard.

"Please excuse me, miss, but you don't have the right to use this passage, or to be in this area."

He didn't show any signs of being aggressive.

"Oh!" she exclaimed innocently. "I didn't know."

"It's nothing," he assured her amicably. "I would suggest going back upstairs and using an exit that's more… conventional."

"Yes, of course," she acquiesced, all smiles.

No more doubts. He had to have followed her. If not, how could _he _have been in such a place as this, and yet… he knew exactly where she was, no questions asked?

_Kaiba? He _dared –

"I'll follow you," she told him.

She only had time to watch the poor man get knocked to the ground.

"What the – "

Out of nowhere, two armed men were targeting her.

"We're going to have to have a change of plan."

_Not Seto? Hm. That man only annoys me, anyway._

"Oh, another thing," the thug aid, grinning sardonically. "Don't try anything funny this time, okay?"

She recognized one of the aggressors as being involved with the time she was with Mokuba; the same one exactly that had shot her.

He gave her the signal to follow his colleague through the exit.

"This way."

The last thing she remembered was feeling a sharp pain somewhere near the nape of her neck; then, complete black.

. . .

Kaiba was absorbed in the process of working through his documents, each one as boring as the next, when Roland, his most trusted aide, entered his office without bothering to knock on the door.

"I absolutely do not appreciate the intrusion, you know," Kaiba said, with a tone edged with malice.

Roland bowed quite low to excuse himself.

"But," he said, "I have very bad news, sir."

Kaiba stopped his scribbling, and turned to listen.

"…The madam…" Roland said.

Of course he was speaking about Naomi. But Kaiba's face remained impassive.

"… has disappeared," Roland finished.

"Disappeared?"

Kaiba kept control of his emotions, not bothering to elevate his tone.

"Yes," said the man. "Apparently, she tried to leave the hotel in secret, sir. And one of guards followed her."

_Grr… Naomi_

"Except," Roland continued, "the guard was found unconscious."

Kaiba suddenly felt like laughing.

"Look, it must have been her who - "

"No, sir," Roland interrupted.

"Someone fired at him from behind, sir. He claims to have seen to armed men taking her away."

"What?" shouted Kaiba, on the cusp of spilling into outrage. "Remind me why I pay you people!"

But it wasn't the time for acerbic reproaches.

"Look for her. Fast. Keep me posted often," he ordered.

"Yes, sir."

Roland left as fast as he had entered, leaving behind a fuming Kaiba.

He stared at the door as if he could scare it shut.

_Naomi! Why did you leave? It wouldn't have happened if you hadn't tried to – _

His fist connected violently with his desk.

_It's my fault! If you hadn't been there to keep Mokuba safe, they never would have known you existed! It's my fault!_

Seething in anger, he was having trouble keeping it down now.

_Stay calm. They'll find her soon. Yes. I'll find you again, Naomi… I promise_.

Again, without knocking, Roland rushed into the room.

"That was fast."

Kaiba was now quite satisfied.

"Where is she?"

"Well, sir, it's not about the missus," Roland admitted.

"What?"

Kaiba was reeling, heart clamped as if he was expecting the world to end. Without knowing.

"Master Mokuba was also taken, sir."

* * *

BUM BUM BUM! I see a pattern starting here.


	8. Chapter 8

Well, I was supposed to do this earlier this week, but I guess now is alright. It's a really long chapter of Appearances, by Melzart!

Story belongs to Melzart; Yugioh belongs to Kazuki Takahashi.

Wow. Lots of profanity, reference to rape, and useless Mokuba here. Oh, spoiler alert: [SPOILERS] Kaiba gets really dark at the end. [/SPOILERS]. Um, huzzah?

* * *

**Appearances**

_by Melzart_

**. . . **

Chapter 8

_The Abyss_

Both of them, at the same time. One after the other. Twice as hard to cope with.

Those bastards truly seemed to have prepared very well for their attack.

Roland saw something he never would have dared to imagine: for a tiny instant, he believed that the great Seto Kaiba would faint due to the violence of the shock; he had glazed over.

He stood standing, his hands pressed down on the surface of his desk as if he wanted to crush it with his fingers; he was in fact trying not to fall down. He was completely thunderstruck.

His mouth hung ajar and totally silent, as if he were screaming in the vastness of outer space.

And the color of his face went from a livid white to a scarlet red and back again.

_No! Mokuba! No! Naomi… I'll kill them. I'll skin them alive. And I'll mount their skins on my wall!_

"Find them. Use every man you have. Hundreds. Thousands. Just find them."

He was whispering, certainly, but Roland was not about to ask him to repeat himself. Thus he scurried off to attempt to rally together all available men for the job. They would search the city to the last centimeter.

And Kaiba wasn't going to sit back idle.

He left his office, a whirlwind, convinced that time was against him.

. . .

"Psstt… Naomi. Wake up, Naomi."

Naomi opened one eye with some difficulty, and then the other. She was under no impression of being inside of an enchanted castle.

From what she could make out, her wrists were shackled together and suspended from a rope in such a way that her head, still bowed down, was pulled behind. They seemed to be inside of an immense, abandoned airplane hangar, or some sort of warehouse with tons of empty space.

When she had finally managed to put everything together, Mokuba was beside her, also attached in the same way that she was. Only their feet were touching the ground.

"Mokuba," she murmured low as she became aware of the presence of four of the culprits in the room with them.

"Hey!" one of the shouted, having heard them. "Sleeping Beauty woke up!"

This won an icy stare from Naomi.

"What do you want from us?" she asked, demonstrating that this was a game of which she was not appreciative.

"Oh. From you two, nothing," said another one. "You're nothing more than simple little appetizers."

_Kaiba. Definitely. Nothing but trouble_.

She had already had the leisure several of the thugs she had already met in the little alley behind that hotel, the night she had helped Kaiba defend himself- that was weeks ago already. And it was part of the same band that had tried to kidnap Mokuba at the mansion.

One of them, quite beefy in appearance, she recognized without any difficulty. He approached her, feigning harmlessness.

"My offer still stands, my sweet. After everything, I'll still have a party with you, whenever you'd like. It'll be an honor to best Kaiba at that little game… you'll see, he's no match for me."

She began to laugh wryly, shaking her head. His eyebrows furrowed.

"I don't play that 'little game' with Kaiba, as you say."

_Then again, you will never be able to best him. Nobody does._

"No?"

Again, she shook her head no, looking at him with a disparagingly black look.

"So… tell me… why would he be following you so closely if you're absolutely nothing to him?"

At these words, Naomi was victim to a sudden and silent fury. She ignored it, obviously, not doubting this decision until the last second.

"I don't see what you mean," she said, inflexible.

But he scoffed, laughing out loud.

"Whatever. You can't… you'll have your party. I won't forget you," he threatened again, this time reaching to touch her breast.

On instinct, her legs thrust out defensively, making him back up a few steps.

"NEVER!"

"I can tie your legs together, too. That's no problem."

At that moment, a man walked in, interrupting whatever the man was intending to do with her.

"Oh, see here! Let's all calm down; we mustn't harm our merchandise," he said loudly in a sort of half-laugh. "Ah!"

His steps stopped in front of the captives.

"She is quite pretty. Hmm… I have to admit, Kaiba certainly seems to know about women," he said, addressing Naomi.

"She said she's not his girlfriend, boss," said the guy who had taken the kick.

"Oh, really?" the boss continued. "Normally, I'd be overjoyed. Right now, I don't care."

"Don't care?" spat Naomi, insulted. "What does that mean?"

He didn't respond to the question, however, only giving her a mocking grin.

_What an asshole_.

But she wasn't alone – she had to factor in Mokuba, as well.

Strange, how destiny does things. She had barely seen him three times, and was already in danger with him for the second time. The young man truly had to learn how to avoid being ambushed. Even though it wasn't really his fault, himself victim to those he thought he knew. And perhaps more. Honestly, could she really blame a rich and powerful man for being the target of so many crooks and wannabes?

She had no other choice but to look out for herself, now. And just _for _herself. No _faux pas_ allowed.

"And what do you hope to get in exchange? Because this is blackmail, isn't it?" she asked.

The boss smiled.

"And you're intelligent, too. Which makes you worth even more to Kaiba, I'm sure," he responded, malice underlining his voice.

"You're wrong. It's not what it seems like," she insisted further.

"We'll see," he muttered, turning on his heels to leave.

"Poor guy," she breathed quietly, lowering her eyes away from him.

A hand, very large, rudely slapped her face, which made her turn her head in rage towards Mokuba, who jumped slightly.

"Pay attention to what you say!" screamed the thug, apparently defending his very dear employer.

_Let go of me, bastard. Do me that one pleasure, _she told herself mentally, her gaze practically gunning him down.

She won a second slap.

"Don't even try looking at me like that. Who knows what I could do if I didn't stop myself," he said, persuaded that he had complete control of the situation.

Mokuba began shouting at him, angered that she couldn't defend herself.

"You're just a coward! You wouldn't dare if she wasn't hung up!"

"Want one too, brat?" he offered.

"Mokuba!" she scolded, trying not to provoke him any further.

She didn't quite understand what pushed to her to try to come to his aid, if not protect him. It was just something she had to do.

"Enough!" shouted the boss from nearby the exit. "You needn't be so brutal. For now."

He then left the huge room, smirking.

. . .

Mokuba kept his eyes on her, more worried than he was frightened.

"You okay, Naomi?"

She nodded her head slightly to reassure him.

"Don't worry. I know my brother. He's gonna find us," he said again.

_He has such confidence_.

She couldn't reasonably count on him appearing. But she didn't want to destroy the young boy's hopes. Also, maybe deep down, she also believed it was better to give up.

"Yeah," she breathed gently.

Out of curiosity, but mostly out of a desire to relax the atmosphere, she began a short discussion, voice quiet.

"How'd you find yourself here, Mokuba? You didn't have your guards with you?"

"Oh, yeah. But they came to the high school. I was leaving the restroom when they got me. Nobody could have done anything about it. And I didn't want them to hurt anybody."

She nodded, approving of his choice of trying to protect his peers.

"Yeah."

"Hey, shut up!" cried one of the men.

Naomi and Mokuba glanced at each other quickly, both choosing to keep their silence.

. . .

"So?"

"Still nothing, sir."

Kaiba was becoming more and more impatient, even though he had understood from the get-go that it wasn't going to be a pleasant or convenient experience. The crooks certainly wouldn't reveal their location so easily.

_Hold on. I'll find you. I'm coming_.

. . .

"Hey, cupcake! You wanna play strip poker with us? I'll hold your cards if you want…. and I'll volunteer to take your clothes off for you," said another one of the thugs.

Naomi grinned at the irony.

"Alright, but only if you release me."

They began to laugh at her 'joke'; apparently, not a single one of them was going to risk actually doing it.

"I tried, right?" she murmured to Mokuba, who was trying to stifle a sort of half-laugh himself.

How could she stay so calm and even find a way to be funny?

But Mokuba once again became lethargic, racked with concern.

"Hey," she told him again. "Don't worry. Your brother'll find us soon. I'm certain."

He acknowledged her with a curt nod, thanking her simultaneously.

"Yeah. And he's gonna make cake outta these- "

Neither one of them had noticed the guy who had walked right up to them and then slapped Mokuba hard across the face, making him reel.

"I told you to _shut up_, you dirty, pretentious kid!" he shouted.

Naomi could do no more than aim a kick in his general direction. But he recovered rapidly, the attack having missed.

"Pathetic," she hissed to him between her teeth.

"What did you say?"

"You're also deaf as well as being as fearful and stupid as an ass? PA-THE-TIC!" she tried to insist with even more arrogance that perhaps even Kaiba was capable of.

_Oops… I don't think I should have said that…_

He whipped around to strike her face again, this time aiming for the side that hadn't been hit before.

"No!" screamed Mokuba, understanding that she was simply sacrificing herself for his own sake.

Courageously, she acted as if she hadn't felt anything, laughing in his face, which only increased his coldness.

She got another blow on the spot, a punch, which split open her bottom lip due to the sheer force.

She was far more angry than she was hurt.

"Stop!" Mokuba kept shouting, not really caring any longer.

Naomi couldn't help but spit in the man's face, a mixture of the newly drawn blood as well as her saliva.

He came to attack her again, except this time, in a well-timed jump, Naomi's legs kicked off the ground and wrapped around the guy's neck, strangling him; with a single twist, she threw him to the ground. Even bound, she wasn't to be taken lightly.

But a second of the gang appeared out of nowhere.

"You really don't know how to deal with her, do you, you idiot?" he shouted to the figure on the ground as he planted a knife into Naomi's left shoulder, before just as quickly withdrawing the blade. "There. Now I'm sure she understands."

Naomi held back her cry of pain, despite the extreme burning she felt that was making her squirm in place.

"Oh, it's still such a shame that I had to ruin such beautiful merchandise," he joked, with a laugh that would seen insane to the ear of any intelligent individual.

"You bastard!" shrieked Mokuba, dying of anxiety and with eyes cursing them both to hell. "My brother will kill you guys for that!"

The man who was knocked to the ground, now back on his feet, now approached Naomi once more with a hypocritical smile: he did not let his anger show, now, but he was furious that she had ridiculed him while defending herself.

"Hey, hey, and just when I was beginning to think there wasn't anything between you two, either," he grinned darkly at the young woman.

"That's right. There's not. And _definitely _not anything concerning _you_," she admitted, forcing herself to not show any sign that she was uncomfortable.

His eyes were filled with an atrocious hate. She had slightly revealed, indirectly, the true attraction she held for Kaiba.

"And you think he'll kill me for doing this?" he spat as he punched Naomi in the ribs repeatedly, as if she were nothing more than a punching bag.

"No! Stop!" Mokuba was screaming, unable to bear watching her take blows for much longer; the guy was pummeling her and she couldn't do anything to stop him.

Desperately, Mokuba's feet tried to kick the guy, but he had to admit his powerlessness against the man whose beatings seemed to come without end.

Bravely, Naomi prevented herself from giving them the satisfaction of hearing her cry out in pain. But the last couple of blows left her out of breath: she felt as if something had been broken in her body, and the evil was growing.

"You have no right!" Mokuba was shrieking, insane with rage. "STOP!"

"I have to say, twerp… that the lady and I… have some things to sort out," he sneered, content to be taking his revenge, content that they both were victims.

She withstood a new blow without flinching, as if she were born to be martyred or to used to the abuse to make anything of it.

"Leave her alone!" cried Mokuba. "Wait until my brother gets here! I'll watch him strangle you with your own guts!"

But the thugs laughed amongst themselves, as if he had just told a good joke.

. . .

Half of the city had already been scrutinized and Kaiba believed that the big moment was fast approaching. More than two hundred men had searched every nook and cranny. It was just a matter of time.

And time was suddenly even more precious. Something wasn't going right. He knew it, somewhere in the crook of his stomach: a sort of interminable anguish that lodges in the back of your throat and slips slowly downward. He was enraged.

They were soon going to discover that nobody touches members of his family without being punished.

But because the kidnappers hadn't left any updates, he was still left in the dark.

And it had to be at least four good hours since their disappearance.

_I have to find them. Fast. Something isn't right…_

"Sir?" came a voice from the transmitter. "We might have found something."

"Very good!" Kaiba responded, who, for a short instant, was confident again.

"We think they're probably in a hangar near the docks."

_I hope so, with all of my heart._

. . .

The pain in Naomi's breast became more intense as she continued to not show anything. She was grimacing; yet it seemed hidden from their sight.

"Stop it, Mokuba," she murmured.

"My brother will come. I know it. Hold on, Naomi. He's coming." He seemed to let the words glide out of his mouth.

He closed his eyes as if to pray, overflowing with rage at being so helpless, as Naomi hung her head in the moment of respite, trying desperately to not cry out.

_I admit, I like you a lot, Mokuba. I even think _I'd _like to see him now, too_.

The boss walked back into the room. This gave Naomi a further bit to breathe.

"What did you _do_?" he asked to his men, shocked.

It didn't please him, although he tried not to care.

"Uh… boss… we got a little carried away… but she started it!"

"Gah! I know she's not of great utility to us; it's the brat that's important. Still, don't screw them up so badly," he deadpanned in a banal tone as he punched a number into his phone.

"Kaiba!" he said. "We have something that belongs to you and most importantly- "

"Seto!" Mokuba screamed, knowing he was speaking to his brother.

"… something that I believe holds your _interest_," the boss finished.

Kaiba felt the anger take control for what had to be the thousandth time.

"If you do them any harm, you will have to answer to me personally!"

"Oops!" the boss taunted. "I'm afraid you'll find neither one in perfect condition. But rest assured, they're alive."

Kaiba felt glued to the seat of his helicopter as if he weighed a ton.

_Neither one in perfect condition? What's that supposed to mean?_

"If you dare touch a hair on either of their heads, I will kill you. Pitilessly," he threatened gravely.

"Well, my friend, isn't the most important thing that they're alive?"

A long shiver of horror rocked Kaiba's body.

"Seto!" wailed Mokuba again. "Nao- "

But one of the thugs wrapped his hand around his mouth.

_Nao… mi?_

Kaiba clenched his fist, threatening to crush the phone with the sheer strength of the action.

"Mokuba!" Kaiba shouted, as if he thought he could hear him.

"We're having technical difficulties… I'll call you back in a moment," the boss said as he ended the call.

. . .

_Neither one in perfect condition…_

"Find them immediately! That's an order!" he roared at his men, hoping to accelerate the search under the weight of his threats alone.

. . .

"Naomi…" Mokuba sighed, giving her a concerned look.

Blood was still flowing from the wound in her shoulder. Visibly, she was weakening as she continued to lose more of it.

She raised her head to look at him. His face was burdened with as much fatigue as hate, bruised by the repeated strikes.

"Don't say anything more, Naomi. I can't stand to watch them hurt you. Please."

She didn't respond; she merely lowered her eyes, accepting his terms.

He didn't have anything in common with his brother's spite. So much so, in fact, she asked herself how he could possibly live with such a pompous being. Mokuba was practically Seto's antithesis: warm, enthusiastic, spontaneous, sensible… and defenseless.

And she knew that. There. Without a doubt. What Kaiba had protected up until then with so much zeal.

_I'm trained for this, Mokuba. I went to the right school. Don't worry_.

But she wouldn't tell him that.

His complaints were sincere in their compassion. She wouldn't permit herself to give him other things to worry about; maternal instinct, maybe?

Of course, he was practically grown up. But as fragile as an infant.

Yes, she knew that: Kaiba already did.

_I'm not counting on seeing you again, Seto. This wasn't in my plans. But, honestly, I hope Mokuba's right. And you'll come soon. I can't hold on much longer_.

. . .

"I want proof they're okay," Kaiba growled, succeeding somewhat abnormally in keeping his sangfroid.

"You already heard your little brother, I think," said the boss. "For what happened to your… delicious little girlfriend…"

_My _delicious _little girlfriend?_

"She's not my girlfriend," Kaiba said, trying to diminish the danger that Naomi was facing.

"Come now, Mr. Kaiba. Don't play games with me!"

"This isn't a game," Kaiba responded in a glacial voice.

_Not again, you dirty vermin._

"Who cares. You wouldn't risk the life of this precious young woman, as innocent as you say she is, would you?"

_Grrr… you're going to pay for all of this, bastard_.

"What do you want? Let's get to the point: stop beating around the bush."

The man stopped laughing.

"Hm – very simple. Kaiba Corp for your little brother."

Kaiba gasped.

"Is this a joke?"  
"I never joke when it comes to business, Mr. Kaiba. What's more, I'm giving you until the end of this afternoon to get everything in order; that's three good hours. After which time…"

He stopped.

"After which time..?" Kaiba hardly dared ask.

"I will not care any longer for one of their lives. Your choice."

_Naomi_

He hadn't said it, but Kaiba had rapidly deduced that they wouldn't take out Mokuba because he was their best token of exchange. Without him – nothing.

"I'll call you back in an hour, Mr. Kaiba."

Then a click ending the call from the other phone.

_Bastard! Bastard!_

Kaiba was breathing nervously, prey to a hatred on the point of spiraling beyond his control.

"Where are you?" he demanded into the helicopter's radio.

"We're verifying all the hangars, sir. There's only five left."

"Go faster!"

Was he or was he not going to flinch, give over that company for which he had fought so hard?

He would never sacrifice Mokuba. Then again, he could always take him back, sooner or later.

But Naomi? A pure foreigner, whom he barely knew a month before?

Sure, he owed her one. Maybe two, since the night she entered his life, helping to dispose of his assailants. That wasn't counting the unexpected aid she had given Mokuba against the kidnappers, causing them to abort their first plan.

The same Naomi that wanted to get away from him, which he wouldn't allow due to pure egotism.

_It's dangerous to train in these parts_, she had told him.

He had never realized how right she was.

Maybe she had shown him what women call, amongst themselves, to be their 'sixth sense': an almost infallible instinct. Yes. Maybe that was exactly why she took so much trouble to push him away in self-defense.

The injustice burned him. Atrocious remorse was ripping his soul apart.

Yes. Even for Naomi, he would give his company.

. . .

"By the way," started the brute as he approached his victim once more.

"Leave her alone, you piece of shit!" Mokuba ordered him, living in a nightmare.

Naomi had greatly weakened even though she was trying desperately to cope, driven by a mysterious and incredible force. And she was cold.

"…I noticed," he said, "that you limp slightly. Were you born that way? Oh, no. I doubt that the _great _Seto Kaiba would have given so much attention to a vulgar little chronic cripple like you."

Naomi sighed, mockingly.

"You're really frustrated, you know that?" she yelled with disgust. "Always wanting what others have, but you can never get your hands on, right?"

She was insulting him again.

"You never thought about buying a punching bag or doing yoga? It helps."

"No, Naomi," Mokuba begged in fright, correctly supposing that he would attack her again: he definitely seemed to want to.

Angrily, he punched her in the face.

Naomi's head recoiled, then roughly struck the man's forearm on the rebound, spraying Mokuba with a jet of blood.

"Damn creep!" he cried, trembling in rage and averting his eyes, unable of taking it any longer.

"SETO! Where are you?" Mokuba wailed, from the deepest fathoms of his soul.

Naomi spat on the ground, slightly more than stunned.

But the man wanted to take out his feelings on Mokuba now. He moved to slap him, but she reacted:

"You really are a sorry excuse for a human," she murmured, trying to lure him away from Mokuba.

Oddly, he turned back around and seized her chin violently, lifting her up and then staring at her.

"And the sorry excuse for a human says that he's through with you, not only will Kaiba not look at you in the same way, he won't look at you at all. He'll have nothing but disgust left for the slut you really are."

"Don't listen to him, Naomi!" shouted Mokuba, as if encouraging her. "My brother wouldn't!"

"Oh, but he will…. once I'm through with her," the brute sneered, letting his eyes trail down her body.

Naomi seemed to have suddenly stopped, silent and motionless, as if he had just struck a nerve.

_Slut? What does he… no. Never! He wouldn't touch me…_

Did she give a damn what Kaiba thought of her right now? Maybe.

More than likely yes.

Hadn't she become his playground, his creature, hating that anyone else would touch – or even look – at her?

Hadn't she become entirely and exclusively his, body and soul?

She couldn't look at him in the face any longer if she were dirtied by fingers other than his. It was crazy how she was trembling, from cold or from fear, she didn't even know what anymore. Not any more than she knew why she mentally de-clothed him at the wrong times.

The man stayed calm, grabbing Naomi's thigh in his hands as if he had detected the bullet wound.

She flinched, nervous.

"Looks like you have a little weakness here," he snickered as he pressed down, hard.

. . .

"Sir! We've found them!"

"Are you sure?" said Kaiba, holding his breath.

"Yes, sir."

"On my way."

. . .

Using his knife, he ripped open a part of her pants, leaving a short, shallow scratch on the tender skin where he hadn't bothered to look.

"Oh. I see," he said as he saw the bandage, which he ripped off to unveil the wound so fresh it hadn't yet made a scar.

Naomi was overpowered by a very unpleasant shiver all along her spine as she imagined what he might be readying to make her undergo.

All her muscles clenched, hard, as if preparing to deal with the pain she soon felt as he violently squeezed his fingers around the wound, stretching the skin in all directions, tearing apart the stitches.

Although she tried to stifle a loud groan, the pain was so unbearable that she lost consciousness.

"You _bastard_!" Mokuba repeated, whipping his head away due to a sudden influx of nausea. "My brother will teach you!"

"Stupid little shit. _My brother _this, _my brother _that. Where _is _your brother?"

. . .

More than seventy-five men, armed up past the teeth, were encircling the building by the time that Kaiba arrived, ravenous to see what he might find inside.

"I am warning you: I will not tolerate error," he warned them, perhaps more threatening than he had been to the gang boss.

"No, sir!"

With a wave of his hand, he gave the signal for all of the men to prepare to enter and a dozen snipers stationed on nearby rooftops to get ready.

. . .

"Leave her alone!" Mokuba growled, seeing the man detach Naomi, who was still unconscious, and drag her closer towards himself.

"I have the right to have a little fun, don't I?"

"Don't you touch her!" Mokuba threatened, furious, writhing wildly like an overgrown Tasmanian devil.

It looked to him like Naomi was bleeding from everywhere.

The man continued to laugh as he moved for another door, a bit further away.

"Oh, I get it now, virgin. You must want to see her…?"

Mokuba stared at him with the most disgust and contempt he could muster.

Words failed him.

The door closed, and he was still laughing cynically.

Mokuba heard a long wail of anguish, and tears sprang to his eyes.

. . .

The men were ready to enter when Kaiba raised his gaze slightly.

_Mokuba?_

He had heard what appeared to him to be a low humming, but he could recognize it anywhere.

He groaned, angrily. Mokuba was in danger.

. . .

The doors shattered onto the boss and two of his men, who tried to flee, in vain, at the sight of them.

"So… what if we negotiated face to face?" Kaiba snarled, menacing with all of his might.

. . .

Naomi awoke to the strange sensation of sliding across the floor, then the feeling from her head that she was face-down upon it.

Her fists were still tied, but her arms were free.

She _must_ use the small bit of energy that remained whenever possible: and that was a definite. But shaken and dazed, she preferred to keep quiet for the moment, and not unnecessarily provoke him.

"Oh, I'm so very happy you've awoken, my sweet. I would have hated for the party to have started without you."

Just the right moment. What she had been waiting for. Because she didn't have any other choice but to fight, again, especially if this was going to be her last time.

"I'm warning you… I can get a bit rough. I like to hear my bitches cry…"

Never.

She shivered, terrified and exhausted.

It might happen, she thought.

Over her dead body.

. . .

_Seto… _

In no time, Kaiba met back up with his men in the main area of the hangar where Mokuba was hanging.

Soon the attackers were out for the count, and the two brothers found themselves face to face.

"You okay, Mokuba?"

He was horrified by the blood on his brother's clothes. But he understood just as quickly that it wasn't his.

Beside him hung another rope, from which hung a metal bar, now elevated and dangling a tad below ceiling level. And on the ground, small pools of blood were scattered around the floor.

He correctly surmised that this was the place where Naomi was, a few minutes or a few hours earlier. He didn't know anymore. But he was seeing red: and he trembled as much from disgust as from terror.

_They hurt her._

Frenetically, he looked around for her, both sickened and more anxious than ever.

. . .

With the energy of the desperate, Naomi struck a solid blow into the man's shin, and he crumpled to the floor.

She went to get up, despite all of the suffering her body was enduring, and then he was riding her back, tearing wildly at her hair.

"You dirty whore!"

Suddenly, he shoved her face into the ground, causing it slam hard against the tile. She tried to resist, lessen the impact – but he was far too strong.

Or, she was just too weak.

. . .

"Where?" Kaiba panicked. "Tell me! Where?"

Furiously, Mokuba bobbed his head at the door.

"Don't worry about me! He wants to make out with- "

Mokuba suddenly hushed, lowering his head at the mental image and trembling in fright. He didn't need to finish his sentence. Seto understood everything.

How could that dog dare to imagine placing so much as a finger on her?

His entire face froze over, and he was a demonic being born straight from hell, ready to eradicate all life for miles, and tear out the man's bowels with his teeth alone.

. . .

Naomi thought her face must have turned to mush – she didn't feel anything any longer, not even pain.

Holding her again by the hair, he picked her off the ground, as if she weighed no more than a feather, when the door flew open with a _bang! _to reveal an immense, terrifying shadow.

Her violator, caught unawares, had the immediate reflex to use her as a shield, brandishing a knife against her throat.

And he began to laugh, uproariously, particularly once he saw Kaiba stop in shock.

"Your bitch, Kaiba. I've gone and made a little beauty outta her, haven't I?"

And it was upon this horrible vision that he discovered her again: blood streaming out of her, and between the hands of some wretched bastard.

Nothing remained of the magnificent creature he so ardently desired. Though the atrophied expression, he could barely see her look at him.

Kaiba staggered backwards, seized with the will to both kill him and vomit simultaneously.

_Too late. Too late… _he repeated to himself, half-hysteric, on the verge of a nervous breakdown.

"Stand back!" shouted the man, certain he had the upper hand against Kaiba.

The look Kaiba gave him was saturated with blood and vengeance. He looked like the solitary, ferocious wolf he had been his entire life: but this time, his search for blood was real.

"You have signed your death warrant," he whispered, overcome by a devastating hatred. "Whatever happens, you will not leave here alive."

_I promise, Naomi._

And more than all of the others combined, he would keep this one.

His fists had curled so tightly he had no doubt that even bone could not pierce them.

Naomi threatened him silently, trying to drag herself off the ground. Her body did not respond; it had become so soft she could no longer stand.

It was humiliating to be reduced to this helpless state. Because Kaiba was there to see her, and she knew her life depended on him now.

If she had been happy, even relieved to see it happen, it still hurt, deep within her. She would have wanted, a million times over, that it could have been somebody else. Anybody but him.

"Whatever you do… you will _never _leave!" Kaiba reaffirmed.

The man hesitated for a long time, trying to evaluate the validity of Kaiba's words. Of course he could see the rage flaming in the pupils of Kaiba's eyes. He also understood that he would be no match against them all. But Kaiba's reaction – he understood he didn't have just a simple hostage in his hands.

So he clung to her more aggressively, focusing on the fact that Kaiba could not hurt him if she stayed between them.

_Come on, Naomi! One last time. Please! _ Kaiba begged her, silently.

He understood the pitiful state she was in, but he was hoping for a miracle. Because he would not risk her life: even if he would never accept letting the bastard leave….

Roland came to move forward, as disgusted as any of the men in the hangar, but the man yanked Naomi against him again.

_Naomi… just a distraction… a little… eensy-weensy… I'm waiting for… I know you can hear me, Naomi._

Kaiba did not let his bloodthirsty stare wander off of the man.

Despite her lack of strength, understanding that they were in a dilemma Kaiba could not escape, nor want to escape, Naomi slowly, without sudden movements, raised her hands once more.

She understood he wouldn't risk her life. Or what was left of it.

_Yeah, Naomi… that's it!... you can do it!... a tiny little effort… then-!_

_Then what? She's going to go to bed as if nothing ever happened?_

_ You're an idiot._

_ No… I only want to get out of here with you, Naomi._

"You creep! Let her go!" Mokuba shouted, passionately, shaking his fist in the air.

It was him who gave the kickoff when he surged into the room, distracting everybody except for his brother – whose attention was riveted to his adversary's slightest movements. This was no time to be distracted: he only had one chance, and he couldn't screw up.

In a final burst, and taking advantage of the distraction that Mokuba had caused, Naomi managed to grab the hand that held the knife and push it away from her throat, at the same time head-butting him in the face. Then she sank to the floor.

Her attacker, stunned by the blow, bent to pick her up but Kaiba, was waiting for nothing short of this opportunity, flew upon him in a flurry of blows. Nothing could calm the fury he was unleashing upon him so rapidly.

His men hesitated a moment to lend a hand to rescuing the young woman lying in her own blood on the floor. Only Mokuba had dared so far as to crouch beside her.

As if they all had the same thought at the same time, Kaiba stopped. _Naomi… _

He hadn't yet finished with this dipshit, though.

In a single, fluid movement, he threw himself to his knees upon the ground, where he delicately lifted Naomi into his arms, also sweetly staring into her bloodied face.

He was sick. So sick he had to furiously fight to hold back the tears beginning to appear in his otherwise beautifully polar-blue eyes.

Wasn't he the _great _Seto Kaiba? The one who could never show any sign of weakness?

"Naomi…" he called to her, very low.

_I'm here, Naomi…_

Her eyes partially opened, and she was completely out of it.

Yet, a very small grin wrinkled her face. A grin which filled Kaiba with misery, and tore his heart in two.

_I'm so sorry, Seto. I tried to be as strong as… you…_

"Se…to…" she breathed before her eyes closed again.

"Yeah…"

_Naomi…_

Had she been hoping for it, too?

In a rush, he saw himself in his limousine, when he had just won his bet.

_I don't wish her any harm. I will not do her any harm. ANY harm…_

Instinctively, he brought her against himself, trembling in rage and suffering.

He had ceased to keep his word.

_It's dangerous to train in these parts._

"Sir… we'll take care of her," said a nurse, who apparently had just walked in.

But Kaiba could not get himself to let go. He was frozen to the bone.

"Sir," he repeated, "she needs _urgent _care."

Mokuba lightly placed his hand on his brother's arm, himself uncertain of his possible reaction.

Kaiba soon pulled himself together, just as soon as he had loosened his grip enough so as to let them take her away, away from him.

He stared at his hands and only saw blood. Again and forever, her blood. Hers.

And it was, again and forever, his fault. His.

For a brief moment, he wondered if recovering was even possible.

His eyes glazed over.

Shout. Kill. The animal instinct had won control.

"Mokuba… come with me."

He had scores to settle, to be sure.

The two walked into the other room, there where Naomi and Mokuba had been held prisoner for so long.

Nobody had moved: they were waiting for orders.

Only Naomi had left, carried out on a stretcher.

The kidnappers were encircled by a silent pack of men whose eyes remorselessly damned them.

"Tell me, Mokuba, who…" Seto murmured, growing quiet but who still had a glance full of acrimony which lingered on every single one of them.

Naturally, he didn't forget – nor would he ever – the bastard who had just chastised him so thoroughly, daring to laugh in his face. And it would end with him.

But he was looking among them for the one who would hold his tongue and would be entitled to all of his fury. He wanted the head of every guilty man. Of every single one who had dared to touch her.

"That one!" cried Mokuba, pointing at one of them with his finger.

He knew his brother enough to have guessed what he had in mind. And perhaps under different circumstances he would have objected to his brother's violent intentions. Yet he understood – as he felt it personally – all the repugnance his brother felt and trained upon the lot of them.

Whispering, he explained to Seto the scene when the knife was planted in her shoulder when she was trying to defend herself. Calmly and deeply, Kaiba breathed, and advanced towards the guilty.

As he went, he took a knife out of the sheath of one of his guards, who, while showing a most surprised expression, preferred to lower his eyes and let him take it.

Everyone held their breath.

"So… you think she understood something?" he asked the man, kicking him in the stomach and causing him to crumple to the ground. The man was terribly panicked.

Kaiba kept calm, and bent downwards.

"So… let's see. Was it like this?" he said, taking the knife and thrusting it into the man's own left shoulder.

The man screamed in pain.

"Mr. Kaiba!" yelled one of the policemen.

But the stern look the officer earned obliged him to keep silent. Nobody would dare obstruct the justice Kaiba was serving.

There was no longer anywhere inside him he could give to the human being who until then had been on the backburner inside of him. No. All of his life he had been told that he was pitiless. And it would doubtless be this moment he chose to prove how pitiless he could be.

"Or maybe it was like this," Kaiba said again, plunging the weapon directly into his other shoulder, almost like asking an existential question, and trying at the same time to answer it.

"Stop! Have pity!" cried the man torn by the blade.

A devilish grin flashed across Kaiba's face, followed by a sigh of disgust.

_Pity? Is he fucking serious?_

"You like that?" he asked, pressing the knife deeper into his victim. "So. You know something?"

Mokuba was speechless. He had never felt such ire, such fury, from his brother before. Common sense was begging him to try and intervene. But his heart, also, was shrieking for vengeance for all of the unnecessary cruelty he had seen.

Kaiba spat on the man, his easy prey.

"You're a pussy. And you know what?" he asked, his voice dripping with glee. "I bet you didn't even hear a sound escape from her mouth. Am I wrong?"

The guy didn't respond, completely horrified, trying to feel his shoulders with his hands while in an impossible pursuit to find an escape route, rolling around in vain on the floor.

Kaiba stood, still towering, and immobilized him by placing his foot on one of the wounded shoulders.

"Answer me!" he roared, shoving down energetically on the bleeding limb.

"No! You're right! She didn't say anything!" whimpered the criminal.

Slowly, Kaiba moved again, and his feet paused before the head of the gang, the same one who was behind it all.

He was paralyzed in fear.

"But… I didn't do anything… I didn't- " he tried defending himself.

"I told you, you piece of shit, that if anything happened to them, you would answer to me personally."

"But I never – _aggghhh!_" He was cut off when he received a forceful punch in the mandible.

Had he listened, Kaiba would have shot them all on the spot, finally settling his case. But what true vengeance could he have pulled from that?

Languorously, he finally moved, more determined than ever, towards Naomi's attacker, bringing his eyes of the deepest black to his.

Of course he hadn't forgotten. Of course he would never forget.

The thug was skittish, fearing the worst.

But Kaiba had once again mastered himself.

"Your agony will be very long and extremely painful. You will beg for death to come," Kaiba whispered into his ear, as if divulging a great secret.

Strangely, the man shivered.

_Yeah, tremble, you piece of shit._

_Because you will be the case in point that confirms MY set of rules…_

He would understand the true meaning of the word:

TORTURE

* * *

I was supposed to do Chapter 9 tomorrow... we'll see... hopefully this will sate appetites for the coming week!


	9. Chapter 9

Wow... it's been a while! Luckily it's spring break now, so I have lots of catching up to do! I'm apologizing to Melzart for forcing her to put up the other two chapters and then... not doing them. _ My fault! My body is... wacko. Anyway, let's try to rectify this month-long absence, alright?

It's time for more of the Appearances translation (property of Melzart, Yugioh being property of Kazuki Takahashi.) Sorry if it's strained, I did it over the past *month*, especially the last three-fourths; I'll get back into it as well as back into writing in general. Stupid fic ideas haunting me every living day. Sheesh!

And of course, let's not forget about the 11 March 2011 8.9 earthquake and tsunami in Japan. My heart, and I'm sure all of the hearts of all writers on this site, go out to the nation and hope for its speedy recovery. This hits close to me in a weird way; in my **Trebuchet** fic, I wrote it under several assumptions about Kaiba's past that I may or may not write into a sequel. Anyway, one of those was his hometown - Naraha, Futaba Prefecture, chosen due to a slight accident (with fictionalized death) at a nearby nuclear power plant in the late 80's which I could use for where his father worked. Today, I learned there's a chance that nuclear reactor may leak. Talk about odd. So think of Kaiba, too.

* * *

Chapter 9

_Days of Haze_

**. . . **

Cruel. They had proved themselves to be horribly, abominably cruel, true tormentors incapable of the slightest pity.

And why so much cruelty? To destroy him.

And they had succeeded.

The great Seto Kaiba had been annihilated.

He had slipped from his chair, fallen to his knees at her bedside, incapable of the slightest reaction, eyes fixed on the sheets.

It wasn't the chaotic vision of the mostly-whipped body that he could not bear to see; it was the shame at his inability, his failure to protect her. He was guilty, from the bottom of his heart.

He was demolished. Completely, utterly demolished, conscious that nothing in the world would be able to appease his murdered soul. All the horrors she had taken in his name. For his company.

Yes, they had succeeded.

Naomi wasn't moving, stretched out like a human log in his large bed; he hadn't wanted her to be separated from him and he had shot down the idea that she even find herself in an adjoining room, convinced that was kilometers too far away. It was stupid and completely false. But close to him, nothing could happen to her.

Her recovery was going to be long, and most likely difficult. He knew that, too. But no matter how long, he would be there for her.

His hand lightly grasped Naomi's, who did not react, currently in the serenity offered by sedatives. At least he was happy that her suffering would be reduced; she would not be in pain whilst she slept.

Kaiba's bedroom had been expanded into a small 'medical headquarters' of sorts, solely to look after her wounds. He would have never accepted her staying in some isolated room in the hospital.

And, for the first time in his life, Kaiba did not go to work; for several days now, he barely did anything but fiddle with his smart phone, sometimes far into the night if he had trouble finding sleep. And when he did, drained of energy, he would spring awake several instants later to keep up his guardianship of Naomi. The vision of that sadist brutalizing her with delight wrenched his heartstrings and filled him with a rage that nothing could calm. He began to dream with his eyes open. It was stronger than he was.

So he turned his "special" attention to the tormentor himself, personally ensuring that he suffered in the same way and in the same warehouse under Roland's supervision who, against his normal nature, took the greatest of care in carrying out his orders. He had even told Kaiba – maybe just to please him – that the smell was becoming intolerable, tenacious as the odor of blood was. For blood flowed, in small amounts. And Kaiba had promised that his punishment would last a long time, if not forever.

Yes, he would make him pay dearly. Cruelly. With the worst of punishments that could exist. He found no remorse in that.

Nor any relief.

"Mercy! Mercy!" the thug had screamed once he had discovered what was to happen to him.

"And you, you son of a bitch? Did you have mercy on her?"

Kaiba had held his dark glare and hadn't the hesitation to punch him hard, as if he were trying to make up for lost time.

_I am many things, I'll admit that… but I am not a murderer_, he remembered having told Naomi at the restaurant, their first night together.

Not one of those words made any sense to him anymore: that bastard could die there, underneath Kaiba's shadow, and Kaiba would not feel the slightest regret. To be responsible for the death of such a repulsive person would never have affected his tranquility of mind. Ever. Not now.

No. That bastard would never leave that building alive. Not even an inch. Had he not sealed his destiny when he dared touch her?

Of course, Naomi wouldn't die from her wounds, not even over time like that mangy dog. But it would take weeks for her to recover physically; and with everything that had already occurred, he was afraid of further consequences.

Who gave a fuck about the consequences? He was still, and always would be, there.

Thus, at his demand, the doctors had put her into a very long sleep. He hoped it would be beneficial. It was the best thing to do. At least he hoped so: he didn't want to run the risk of her waking up completely disoriented and then having a panic attack once she saw the state she was in.

Even he would never have recognized her due to the blisters on her face.

Yes, it was truly a very good thing that she was sleeping. At least until her face resumed its normal characteristics.

He didn't want her to suffer, as much as he could do so under his own power.

But what terrified Kaiba above all were all the wretched nightmares he could not save her from, despite his wealth, despite his power. Sometimes, eyes still shut, her body would begin to violently convulse under invisible beatings. And she groaned in pain. It was unbearable to watch her squirm. And he, the great Seto Kaiba, could do nothing about it.

Or very little.

He approached her, and by instinct delicately placed his hand upon hers… then, leaning over, murmured softly into her ear. As if he wished, by doing so, give her his own breath of life, the little courage that he still had. Because he could hide it all so well.

Curiously, she seemed to find some long-awaited rest: her body relaxed. He even thought he had seen her faintly smile at the sound of his voice.

And that had given him so much more pleasure than pain.

He persuaded himself that she knew he was near and she appreciated him for it.

No – nobody could separate them. Nobody except Mokuba, still shell-shocked, who could only look back painfully on what he had seen before his very eyes – he had been there, helpless, for the entirety of the sinister spectacle. And Seto understood that it was worse for his brother, as all Seto could do was imagine.

He had even tried to listen, knowing Mokuba would have great need to spill out all of his grief. But Kaiba had proved totally incapable of hearing any of it without feeling that violence wring his stomach again, urging him to smash everything and regurgitate the worst of his wrath.

He wasn't ready to listen. He wouldn't ever be.

So he had allowed Mokuba, instead, to stop all activities: to take a long vacation from school to pass some time at Naomi's bedside, under his own blank stare which made it seem as if life had stopped. The only thing that accompanied the odd family reunion of sorts was silence.

"You should get some rest, sir," said the attendant-now-on-duty who had come to occupy herself with Naomi's _toilette _and follow the instructions concerning her medical needs.

Kaiba looked at her but didn't speak.

"She won't wake up for several more days, sir," she attempted to convince him, almost as if she were simultaneously asking for forgiveness for intruding upon his intimacy.

But Kaiba didn't even find the force to send her away, and did nothing but shift his gaze to Naomi.

If she hadn't seen the woman bedridden in Kaiba's bed, she never would have recognized the President of the Kaiba Corporation. Everything she could garner from the situation looked nothing like that being that was pitiless, arrogant, contemptuous, and hungry for power.

Without saying another word, she left.

When she came back, he still hadn't left the room, and appeared to want to respectfully investigate her as she applied further physical care to Naomi, and going back to business on his laptop when she was through. But he could saw, the second day, an enormous bruise on Naomi's abdomen – where that brute had hit her so hard it had broken several of her ribs. Incapable of taking his eyes off of her, then, he had noticed her thigh, where her first scar had been, looked worse than it had before due its own bruising, outlined by trace marks of where his fingers had been.

He had been so disgusted he had left the room.

_Your bitch, Kaiba… I made a little beauty out of her… haven't I? _And that cynical laugh which malicious reverberated around his eardrums…

He had arrived far too late.

In the corridor, a part of the wall had caved in under the force of his fist: he had hit it over and over without considering what he was doing to his fingers. Bitter, rage-laced tears, had even come up to his eyes. But the wall hadn't resisted his assault. And while there were now gaping holes to ruin the plaster uniformity of it all, he had gotten no relief from having done the damage.

. . .

_Naomi… _

Kaiba lay beside Naomi, turned in her direction. Softly, as if afraid of hurting her further and yet still wished to protect her, he wrapped his arm around her.

Her face had begun to deflate.

_What would you say right now if you saw me so feeble and so powerless? You would make fun of me, wouldn't you? You would be right. I deserve it. I hope you…_

"Sorry," he whispered into her ear just before sinking into a light sleep.

Mokuba, who was walking by, suddenly slowed when he saw the touching moment. He had known for a while now – Seto had finally met a force he couldn't match. But he preferred to leave them in private, and he returned, jubilant, back towards the living room.

"What a great photo that would have made!"

Kaiba was abruptly awoken by Naomi, apparently prey to another nightmare. She trembled, wiggling like a worm in her bed, from right to left, moaning weakly as if she were trying to keep all of her suffering inside of her.

He was trying to calm her when she began to deliriously murmur:

"…Alex…no…why are you hurting me... so badly?… stop…."

Tears were escaping from her closed eyes.

And she was shaking even more vigorously.

What could she be dreaming about? He didn't know. It didn't have anything to do with what had recently happened to her. Not this time. She was dreaming – or reliving, certainly – pieces of her past.

"Wait…"

But Naomi's body was wildly fidgeting, and the features on her face were stiffening as if she was being attacked.

It was more than he could handle.

Tenderly, he held his mouth to her ear, wrapped his arm tighter around her, his breath tickling her cheek.

"Sh…. I'm here Naomi. I'm here…"

As if she had heard him, she relaxed again, her suffering appearing to fade.

She sighed.

Kaiba's heart melted, snow filled with an indescribable warmth, when a very sweet smile crept onto Naomi's face.

"Seto," she breathed before falling back into a comfortable sleep.

_She called my name._

_ Is that smile… for me?_

. . .

Seto had to cave in to the evidence: that fucking company of his couldn't manage without his presence. He was thus obligated to leave the manor despite himself, and not without telling Mokuba what to do – amongst other things.

It had been more than a week and a half since he had stepped foot into his office and now he had the strange impression he had never been there before.

And all the unconcerned people left him beside himself, as if nothing had changed. As if the world hadn't stopped anywhere but in his own life.

He seemed idle, despite the lofty expression which never left him. Everyone saw that his mind was more than two steps behind. But fearing his wrath, no one dared to call him out on it. However, Kaiba was struggling against the weakness he didn't wish anyone would see, showing even more severity than normal in his orders. It was imperative he not seem a loser to anyone, so that the respect he imposed would continue to prevail.

And he had to stay strong, under all circumstances, particularly for Naomi, knowing she could awaken at any moment. It couldn't take any longer.

Mokuba was there, watching her with all of his zeal. This comforted him only slightly in the reality that he was separated from her.

Sadi, his secretary, entered to dump some more documents on his desk.

Kaiba scarcely raised his head. It bothered her even though she _was _doing her job: everything that approached him or fell into his line of sight seemed to ardently irritate him. But at each intrusion, he thought that he let nothing show of it, as he was fighting so valiantly to ignore it.

Sadi hesitated at the threshold, turning around again.

"You look exhausted, sir. Maybe- "

She believed she was only being nice, but she found herself under attack by the icy fury of Kaiba's gaze, which stopped her in her tracks.

"One more word and you're fired," he breathed angrily between his teeth.

She swallowed her pride with difficulty. Sure, she had known him years and was accustomed to his leaps and bounds in mood, although on the outside he seemed to keep a perfect self-mastery. This time, he didn't even have any place for compassion.

"Get out," he ordered dryly.

"Yes, sir. My apologies," she said as she rushed back to her own desk.

She would have started sobbing on the spot if she had forgotten that she was at work. In front of Kaiba, maybe, even. But it wasn't his misfortune that troubled her.

An aura of anger and extreme suffering hung around Kaiba's body like a perfume. She had smelled it upon arrival. He wasn't himself. Seeing him so destitute gave her the greatest of sorrows. Yes. Because she secretly "admired" him intensely, and, by the by, she held more than the greatest of respects for him.

. . .

_Kaiba… bad… cloud… Kaiba…_

Naomi felt that she was in the clouds, despite the pain that she felt all over her body. It hurt so much, everywhere, she asked herself if she was really not chopped up into pieces.

_Sleep… I'll sleep… I'll get better…_

But she didn't find the sorely needed rest.

And then she felt as if she wasn't alone again, like she was being watched.

With a magnificent effort, one eye opened slightly and then shut just as quickly, her vision clouded by an inconsistent haze.

It seemed to her then that her head might explode as she felt her heartbeat rise up past her temples.

_I'll be…_

Nauseous. If she moved or tried to open her eyes, she was certain that she'd vomit out of sheer dizziness.

_No. It's okay…_

Again, she took great care to open just one of them. Her vision cleared, little by little.

Mokuba beamed. A big smile was, he believed, what she'd like to see upon waking up.

She found herself in a bedroom, but she couldn't take it all in completely.

In a last effort, she managed to turn her head onto its side.

Mokuba was the first thing she focused on, and he looked visibly relieved.

"Where…" she murmured so feebly that Mokuba had to walk closer to hear her.

"You're at home with us. Everything's okay, don't worry," he said, as if he had guessed her thoughts far better than he could have heard them.

Her lips crinkled; she licked her lips, looking for something to cure the dryness.

"Oh! Wait!" Mokuba cried as he rushed off to find a glass of water.

' A few moments later, Mokuba cautiously put his arm underneath her head to lift her up slightly and help her to drink.

"Slowly," he said.

She wanted to thank him, but she could not form the words. Nothing could break through the palisade that her lips had formed; yet in her infinite bewilderment, so many questions seemed to be jostling together.

Just as softly, he placed her head back on the pillow.

Suddenly, she lurched up, prey to a perceptible worry.

"you… okay… not wou-…. Mok-…"

Taken aback, Mokuba again was forced to find her train of thought.

"Yes, I'm doing fine. Nothing's wrong, don't worry about me."

"Hmmm," she murmured, apparently satisfied with his response as she sank back downwards.

He wasn't sure if she was completely conscious; she seemed as if she could fall asleep at any given moment.

"Oh, wait," he said again, taking hold of his cell phone. "I'll call Seto."

This time, quite distinctly, he heard:

"No… not Kaiba."

Then the timbre of Naomi's face became inaudible once more.

"But my brother has to know that you've woken up, he'll want to see you-"

She cut him off with a painful sigh, closing her eyelids.

"No… won't see… now… won't see," she breathed before falling asleep.

Mokuba grew dismayed.

"Naomi. Naomi!"

But she had already returned to the kingdom of dreams.

He leapt up, intending to leave the room temporarily. Then, he dialed into his phone.

A voice could immediately be heard on the other side of the line.

"Kaiba."

"Seto!"

Kaiba froze.

"She woke up, Seto. But she went back to sleep again- "

"Alright. I'm coming."

He stood, the phone still on his ear, and Mokuba repeated:

"Seto!"

Kaiba kept quiet, conscious that something wasn't right.

"She doesn't want to see you."

Kaiba felt his muscles paralyze, and he blanched.

"I'm coming."

_She doesn't want to see you_.

_She doesn't want to see you._

_ She doesn't want to_

Kaiba aimed his lost stare through the limousine window.

_You're a monster, Kaiba. And you know it. How could she ever forgive you?_

He got ready despite himself, and despite all the hatred and contempt Naomi's eyes would shower him with upon her opening them. But he resigned himself to his fate; there were to be no mistakes until she was better. That was everything that mattered to him.

Too bad if, later, she would turn her back on him forever.

In the meantime, he was going to do everything, even if it harmed himself personally, so that her rehabilitation would pass by harmlessly. Quit enduring all the disdain she threw at him. It was his punishment. His sentence. And he was ready to accept every consequence.

But he wasn't going to give her the satisfaction of seeing him suffer, nor was he going to serve himself to her blindly. More than ever, he needed to appear strong. Always strong and forever stronger. He would eventually have to come to a screeching halt – but he was hoping that she wouldn't have to see the wreckage.

"Seto!"

Mokuba had walked in front of his brother at the entrance to his bedroom, as if to prevent him from going inside. In reality, he wanted to not let his brother suffer. Because he knew he was – more than anyone.

Kaiba showed no signs of anger.

"Mokuba… it'll be okay."

He then left the room, reticent, while Kaiba hesitantly approached the bed. He wasn't entirely reassured, never mind certain, that he had the courage to be rebuffed.

He stayed immobile for several minutes, eyes plastered with uncertainty and gnawed at from within by the penitence that repentance entailed.

_Stay strong. You must._

Then suddenly his eyes gained an immutable coldness.

In his voice, you could still clearly hear all the weakness imprinted upon his heart.

"Naomi."

No response.

"Naomi," he repeated, louder.

Languorously, she fought to open her eyes, subject to the seemingly insurmountable weight of her eyelids.

"I'm here," he said, as if he hoped that his presence would bring her as much comfort as it apparently did in her dreams.

Still tormented, Naomi fought to remain conscious.

"Go away… don't… see… you," she managed to whisper.

_No. Don't reject me, Naomi…_

Kaiba's fists curled.

"Why?" he asked softly.

Oddly, she turned her head away, as if she didn't want him to see her any longer.

"Not… now," she continued babbling.

_Go away. Please!_

Kaiba remained thunderstruck.

"Tell me why."

Her voice stayed calm, but on the inside, a tempest was howling.

"… please… go."

She was suffering, and she maybe didn't understand the impact of her own words. And once again, he could do nothing, fists clenched, toes scrunched in.

At least he had heard her. And this sole thought put a bit of relief into his heart. He didn't need to do any more.

"What are you going to do?" he asked Mokuba, sitting at the table.

Kaiba took a moment to think.

"I don't know, Mokuba."

He was sick of it, and he sighed heavily.

He still hadn't managed to get any sleep last night, either. And Mokuba was worried about the heavy bags appearing underneath his eyes.

"I don't know. But while we wait, look after her as best you can. That's all I'm asking for. Alright?"

Mokuba nodded.

"Yes, big brother."

Then he left to go to work while Mokuba walked back up to Kaiba's bedroom.

He found her slightly more awakened, but just as numb and sluggish in her movements. She still hadn't moved thanks to her injuries: every time she tried to roll over, her ribs gave her so much pain she had to return almost immediately to the same supine position.

_That's odd. That smell…_

For the first time since her arrival, she had the leisure to inspect the room she found herself within more clearly. A very spacious bedroom; the curtains were pulled. She had the distinct impression that it rarely saw sunlight. How somber.

_And that nice smell. Strong… but sweet._

A smell she knew she could distinguish from amongst a thousand, and of which she was intoxicated with desire.

_Kaiba._

She would have doubtlessly thrust him from her thoughts but the memory was locked intact: he had arrived right as she was learning how to flinch, panting like a marionette between the hands of her abuser. She often remembered (vaguely, however) the moment where she was about to give up fighting, and Kaiba flew in from nowhere, terrible and menacing, an uncontrollable typhoon. Seeing him had done something that shocked her: despite the pain, and despite the shame, she had welcomed his arrival with warmth.

Only – and she was aware of this – she was still at his mercy now, lying in this immense bed with black sheets, semi-impotent. She didn't want him to see her in this state; she knew it must be quite bad. It was enough to not desire his presence.

The one thing she understood was that it wasn't worth it. It was already more than she should allow. She simply wasn't up to par to fight with him.

"Naomi!" Mokuba shouted, overjoyed to see her awake, even though she was still unsteady and fragile.

Naomi greeted him with a tender, comforting smile.

He rushed to her side, overflowing with joy.

"I'm so happy you woke up finally!"

She didn't answer this, still entangled in his energetic gesturing.

"Tell me how you're doing. Do you need something?"

"I have the impression that I have a balloon in each of my shoulders and that they're ready to explode," she confided with a half-grin.

Mokuba calmed a bit as she revealed her pain, becoming aware that all the worst may not have completely passed yet.

"I have to look hideous. Right?" she breathed, as if asking herself more than Mokuba.

She was devoured by his look of compassion.

"No. Anything but," he said softly, stopping himself from snickering.

She went to put her left hand on his forehead, but was stopped by what could have been a cloth of sorts. Her arm was in a sling.

Which reminded her of the hole that one man had made in her shoulder.

She instead tried to raise her other hand, but Mokuba foresaw the gesture and took it before it rose, uncertain of what words he should use.

_I have to look like a monster. He doesn't know how to tell me._

Casually, he tried to play down his bout of vigilance as best as he knew how.

"Do you need anything? Oh, I'm such an idiot. You've got to be dying of hunger."

He was bound to be concealing something. But she preferred playing along.

"How long have I been here?" she asked him, voice low.

"It's been more than a week and a half," he resigned to admitting sadly.

"Oh," she sighed. "Did I sleep the entire time?"

She looked as if she were in anguish.

"Uh…" the sound dragged out. "Yeah…?"

This time, there was no doubt. She was in a state that was to grave for him to want to say or for him to want her to know about.

But before his worried, stricken gaze, she decided to play off of her own sickness, and bravely make fun of herself.

"I must have been out like a light," she said with a sort of half-laugh.

Strangely, Kaiba had returned back to the mansion, convinced he had left behind a very important document.

He had hurried for his office but he couldn't help following his footsteps up to the third floor, to his room, wanting to lay eyes on Naomi before leaving again.

He still hesitated to enter, held back by curiosity, and his eyes began to wander, staring into nothing.

"Tell me, Mokuba," she asked. "Where am I, exactly?"

Mokuba shifted his weight, suddenly flooded with a new sense of enthusiasm.

"Well, you're in our house. Seto didn't want you stay at some hospital, and-"

She interrupted him to ask another question.

"Who's bedroom is this?"

She knew the answer already, it seemed.

"Er… in fact," he began again with a cough, "it's Seto's…"

_Seto's bedroom._

"Why…?" but she stopped herself before she asked the entire question.

Actually, she _did _understand now why she had felt better at the beginning.

She remembered maybe even having dreamt, those evenings where the nostalgia of her only 'contact' with him grew sharper in her memory.

_So it's _his _smell._

But she gave the impression that she was annoyed by it instead.

Kaiba, on the other side of the door, was expecting a protest. But she didn't, to his happiness.

"Naomi," Mokuba asked her gravely. "Why don't you want to see my brother?"

Naomi closed her eyes for a few seconds, as if she were dreaming of what she was about to say.

"Oh," he sighed painfully. "He… hurt… you? Is that it?"

Kaiba's heart jerked violently in his chest.

"No," she murmured, stopping her lips from betraying her. "Never."

As if they were synchronized together, the two brothers sighed in relief.

Yet Mokuba was determined – without tiring her out too much – to investigate a little bit further.

"Are you mad at him? You think it's his fault, because- "

Kaiba's eyebrows furrowed until they practically touched at the center of his forehead. Her silence was weighing heavily on his conscience.

Naomi seemed to think for a moment before she decided to softly say:

"No."

Kaiba breathed for the first time in what must have been days, his heart relieved by what she had admitted.

But Mokuba didn't look convinced, asking himself instead what could possibly be the real reason, still locked up inside her mind.

Naomi tried to comfort the young man again, his face plastered with suspicion.

"No, Mokuba. Your brother never did me any harm."

With a tender smile she couldn't stop, she murmured:

"Actually…"

Kaiba clearly heard the confession. And he didn't quite know if he was more relieved than he was flooded with joy when he felt his hard beginning to beat more rapidly.

"So why don't you want to see him?... tell me."

Naomi looked as if she wanted to closet herself in again and stay silent – as if she had said too much.

_Yeah. Why. Tell me, _Kaiba thought, hooked to her every word.

"Naomi?" Mokuba pressed, shaking her out of what could have been a reverie of sorts.

She flinched back slightly, overwhelmed by the wish to close her eyes and relax under the weight of the fatigue that was menacing her.

"You're very close to him, aren't you," she muttered.

Mokuba's eyes lit up.

"Yeah! And nobody gets the chance to know him like me!" he shouted spontaneously.

It was beyond his control. Mokuba threw himself to the defense of the being he loved so dearly.

"Well.. I know that a lot of people think he's bad and mean, and he only thinks about himself, but that's completely false! He's got a lot of heart. He's the one person I admire the most in the whole world."

Kaiba didn't try to stifle his smile. He was touched: all the way, it seemed, to the tips of fingers. He felt the same way about Mokuba.

"And you don't know, Naomi," Mokuba began again. "He really likes you."

Naomi didn't dare to look at Mokuba, afraid, as if she might have her secret discovered.

"He looked after you day and night. He didn't even sleep. He wanted to make sure you got the best treatment and that you could sleep well. And he didn't think about himself. Not one bit!"

_Shut up, Mokuba, please!_

She would have preferred to keep her eyes closed in fear, because if she opened them, she couldn't shield the tears that would pour out.

But there was no way to escape Mokuba's curiosity.

"Don't reject him, Naomi. He's sincere. He …loves you… a lot."

"He's here," she whispered.

"What?"

"…close to me…?"

It was Naomi this time who couldn't hide the fact she recognized strongly the tone of her voice. Admirative.

_She knows I'm here? _Kaiba wondered, heart pounding furiously.

"So… why?"

Naomi sighed calmly.

Mokuba saw how the spiel would probably end up, but he did not speak up, burning with the desire to finally sort out the situation.

"It's not so simple, Mokuba," she repeated, remembering the first time she spoke the words as she did so.

"Tell me."

She puffed out another light sigh, smile curling the ends of her lips.

"Your brother and I… we play it rough sometimes. About who… will be the strongest between the two of us."

Another smile, this one filled with comprehension, appeared on Kaiba's lips as he remembered those soft moments where they helplessly provoked each other.

Mokuba stepped backwards, strongly amused by how much the words could have just as easily come from his brother.

"… and I don't want him to see me that way right now. He's so strong. I can't."

So it was just a question of pride?

Kaiba fought his urge to race into the room and hold her against him. He stayed immobile, a statue with a smile full of regrets.

_Yes, I am strong, Naomi. That's true. But I'm strong enough for two._

"So," Naomi chuckled, "I still have my pride. What do you think?"

Kaiba, like Mokuba, stopped from snickering lightly in response.

Something in Naomi's voice told both of them it was just an instance of the oppressed fighting the invader.

"I don't want his pity," she concluded, closing her eyes again.

_I wouldn't allow it._

_What? Pity? It's good for the pitiful. Not for you, Naomi. Not for you._

And Kaiba understood her distress. There were so many things he had never spoken of to her. Plus, her physical state had to be tormenting her; like him, she couldn't support the invalidity of her atrophied body. She couldn't support the idea of depending on somebody other than herself.

"Mokuba," she said, "I want you to leave me now. I want to sleep."

Conversation over.

Mokuba bent over her slightly to place a sweet kiss on her forehead.

When he moved back down to the ground floor, he heard the front door close shut.

Predicting his curiosity, Marie – an aide – rushed to inform him that the master had just left. That made Mokuba certain that Seto had spied on their conversation. There was no doubt.

For several more days, Kaiba had no other choice than to be discrete, as Naomi had still not allowed herself to see him. He accepted this temporary rejection only because now he knew the reason behind it.

So when he came to see her in the evenings, he took great care to move practically on tiptoe as he walked past his room, then continued towards the guest bedroom which he was "borrowing" to sleep in – at least, to rest for a few long moments, seeing as he didn't sleep much anymore.

But Mokuba took his role as guardian quite seriously. And Kaiba knew him to be capable.

"Mokuba… can you help me get up?"

"Are you sure about that?"

Mokuba didn't seem to want to muster the courage to realize the idea.

"Wait, I'll go get Seto, okay? I think he'll- "

"No!" she interrupted him. "We'll… get there. Just help me get up."

Earlier, she had asked an attendant to take out the catheter she had possessed since the incident took place; she still felt a slight irritation in her bladder.

Her face had deflated quite well; she was recovering very quickly. There was still the scratch beneath her left eye that still seemed a little blue as well as the bruises down her right side, but the majority had passed better than the nurses could have hoped.

Of course, she still found it difficult to move, thanks to her side. But that was the last thing that was going to stop her from seeking out more autonomy.

It was difficult to stand up completely – and somewhat painful to boot – but she had done so under Mokuba's watchful eye, who had been quite worried she would hurt herself again trying.

"Yes!" she cried out, a conqueror. "Finally!"

Her head was spinning, but Mokuba practically held it so that she wouldn't fall.

"…I'd like to go to the little girl's room."

"Okay. It's this way," said Mokuba, steering her with his hands on her shoulders, not wanting to risk being the one to leave her alone.

On instinct, Naomi chose to ignore the full-length mirror that she saw once she was in the bathroom, fearing she might find in it a face she no longer would recognize.

_Well, I do tend to…_

She chased the bad thought from her mind.

But it was too strong: she had to know what had happened to her.

It took her a lot of time to gather up the courage to raise her head and look at herself in the eye.

_The past always comes back to haunt us._

The right side of her face, from right below her eye down to her jaw, had traces of bruising so bad she thought it was as if blood had decided to coagulate there and wasn't going anywhere else. Her cheek was still puffy – to her, anyway, as she had never seen it when the others considered to be even more so. Even her lip couldn't escape it – it had a small cut.

_I promised myself that this would never happen to me again._

She thought she had kept, maybe, the habit of being abused.

She was wrong. It was worse.

_It's not fair… not fair…!_

Memories, each one more painful than the last, began playing like a movie reel in her head, and her tears began to burn.

_It's not fair… I _promised _myself…_

Her legs had buckled under the pain and she found herself on her knees, her hands against the counter, not cognizant of the pain in her abdomen which was so bad it was as like it could explode into an infection of rabies.

As if she were punishing herself, her head knocked against the edge of the counter.

Overcome by panic upon hearing the noises coming from the bathroom, Mokuba didn't waste a second as he flew running down the stairs. It even seemed to him that he might as well have jumped straight down.

"SETO!" he screamed before he had even reached the bottom.

He had already come to the bottom of the stairs when he heard the furious footsteps down the stairs.

"Quick! In the bathroom!" Mokuba babbled, on the verge of a nervous breakdown.

Kaiba needed no further explanations.


	10. Chapter 10

Whee still catching up and dealing with life. But here this is.

Story belongs to Melzart; anime on which it is based belongs to Kazuki Takahashi.

* * *

**Appearances**

_by Melzart_

**. . . **

Chapter 10

_Balance of Power _

Horrific sniffling and half-stifled sobs reached Kaiba's ears, who was leaning on the bathroom door.

"Naomi! Open up!"

He was trembling, seized by an indescribable terror.

"Go away!" she managed to retort, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand.

_Leave me alone…_

At the end of his patience and more worried than ever, with a thrust of his shoulder, he barged in to come across the apocalyptic sight of that body, normally so beautiful, lying dejected on the floor.

Calm came again once he took in the nightmarish scene.

"Leave us alone, Mokuba," he ordered in a low voice, without turning his head to look at his younger sibling.

"But Seto- "

"Do as I say, Mokuba."

So he went away, resignedly and with reticence.

"You leave me alone, too," she breathed. "Go!"

Kaiba couldn't perfectly summarize what he felt in that one moment. Everything signaled what he felt – that it was pity, which mostly repulsed him – but there were so many other sensations clearly indicated to him that the pain that was stuck in his chest resembled most compassion and suffering.

Anything but pity.

She didn't dare move, turned away from him, hoping that he would leave the room.

_I have to scare him. I have to be. He couldn't have ever imagined that I could be so weak. Why's he taking so long?_

She could feel his gaze weighing down upon her, which granted her, ever so slowly, a rising feeling of anger.

In the midst of all of the torment she hadn't even realized he had slipped closer behind her until she sensed the body heat; when she did, she froze, keeping her head bent downwards. So he couldn't see her face.

He hesitated for a moment before placing his hands on her shoulders, not sure whether she would let him touch her or not. But deciding to act, he laid his hands down delicately, which all the same earned a violet rebuke, another rejection.

"I told you to leave," she ordered him again. "I don't need you."

Kaiba's breathing seemed strained, and his emotions were oscillating between anger and hurt at the words she had just spoken. Rejected. Again. So much cruelty.

_I think you do._

She stayed resolute despite everything, holding back her tears only because he was present. She could almost always find the energy to throw him back.

Kaiba felt tired. So tired, and so suddenly. All he had wanted was to hold her for a moment in his arms, to be useful, do something for her, and she said no to even that small bit of comfort.

As if submitting, his lips approached her ear. He murmured very quietly and very low:

"…I know you don't rely on anybody…"

She went to move away from him but stopped short when an unbearable pain rocketed down her side. She was forced to listen to him, not even able to get up without feeling excruciating pain.

"…but listen to me, Naomi," Kaiba continued, his body now directly touching hers.

With his fingers, he brushed aside several wisps of her hair.

She seemed more calm, potentially due to the physical contact.

"I know… that we fight… and we may do so again when you're better…. if that's what you want."

She didn't move, demonstrating that she was attentive to his words.

"But… until then… of course I'll leave you alone."

For the first time in almost two weeks, Kaiba felt calm, in harmony. Softly, his arms wrapped around her - and he didn't feel any struggling.

"Come on," he urged her as he helped her stand in such a way as she felt as little pain as possible.

Quietly, he took her under his arm and helped her to the comfort of her bed. Although the bathroom was right next to the bedroom and thus it was a short journey, Naomi was still limping, and thus it took longer than it would have otherwise.

She kept her head down, completely silent, and Kaiba easily guessed that she was still in some state of shock.

He had found just the right words, proposing at worst a truce between them during the time she was recovering. He at least had respect for his adversary. And she appreciated that profound solicitude.

She had also found a bit of pleasure in the moment, despite the feelings of bitterness and anger.

He ended up simply holding her instead, trying desperately to catch her eye which she instead kept pointedly fixed at the sheets a few feet away. Worse, even, she began turning her head so that he couldn't see her.

"Would you like something? You just have to ask," he risked offering, basing his action off the fact that she hadn't pushed him back and asked him to forget about her this time through.

Nothing. He hoped she understood his obstinacy, his drive to not leave anything up to her.

She stayed quiet, and shook her head no as she sat on the corner of the bed.

_Naomi… talk to me. Say something. Anything._

He was hopeless and would have given anything for her to cry instead of lock herself in silence, that submissive silence he normally demanded from everybody else and that now didn't suit him at all.

"…You don't want to talk to me," he said again.

Tears came and began to break through Naomi's blank expression. And even though he saw it, and it yanked at his heartstrings, he still received a plain _no _for an answer.

Without saying another word, he went for the door, ready to give up.

"Kaiba," she whispered, loud enough for him to hear.

Which caused him to pause just past the doorframe.

"I want… I'd like you…" she stammered, visibly frightened by her own initiative.

The words came haltingly from her mouth, and practically slowed with each new syllable.

"…to stay," she managed, and she still wasn't looking him in the eye.

_I'm weak. It's a shame, isn't it, Seto._

_… stay?_

He didn't turn around but didn't mull over the question for long, instead returning softly back to the bed. He was sure she wanted his company. Carefully, he lay down on the bed beside her, turned to face her to assure himself that he wouldn't miss the slightest reaction.

Normally he would have done practically anything to avoid a situation that was this embarrassing – having to console somebody else. It wasn't at all part of his routine. But for the first time, he wasn't too opposed to it, and was even very touched by the fact that he was obliged to do so.

"Look at me, Naomi."

She dodged his gaze once again, trying as hard as she could to stop her tears from running down her face.

With his hand, he softly led her face towards his. But her eyes still were anchored to the bedspread.

_No. Raise your head high, Naomi. As high as you can,_ his thoughts urged her.

With a sort of half-smirk, he tried to reassure her.

"It'll get better soon."

_He saw me before that… before I even woke up. And he's always there. I have to be so frightening… but there's so many things…._

He prevented her from squirming away again, refusing to give anything up, including his wish that she would share her suffering with him.

Share. What a funny word for such an egocentric man.

More tenderly still, his lips now hovered slightly over her cheek; he then proceeded to leave a clear imprint on each bruise, as if he hoped to dispel them with his touch.

An immense river of sadness rose again in Naomi's throat, who was continuing to wrestle with herself. Don't sob. Don't sob.

_Naomi… do you not sense how much I need you? Forever… more and more…_

"Look at me," he breathed again, kissing every inch of her face and brushing over her lips.

_It hurts so much, Seto… stop._

But the words stayed tied down in the darkest corner of her heart. Only her red eyes still betrayed her.

All he wished for at that precise moment was to finally be accepted, for her to trust him. Everything else was just her physical recuperation. At least in appearance, her desire was floating somewhere between her heart and her head.

He separated himself from her so he could help her turn towards him, taking great care to not whip her around too brusquely.

But what the _hell _could be going on in that small head of hers?

_I know you're suffering, Naomi, but I'm here. Speak to me._

She seemed to be calming down, reassured by the touch of his fingers on her shoulder and neck, laying close to him. And then her voice seemed so profound, so sincere.

"You pity me, don't you," she murmured suddenly, shattering the silence.

_Do I disappoint you?_

Kaiba stopped where he was, noticing a very slight interest in her voice. She was afraid of disappointing him? Is that what was tormenting her the most?

"No!" he avowed quickly.

But he saw in her defeated expression that she didn't believe him.

He forced her, tenderly, to look at him again.

"I'm Seto Kaiba. I have no pity," he told her, in all due seriousness.

_Some people know more than others, Naomi, I promise_, he continued, his mind now on the bastards who were now getting what they deserved.

"Really?" she asked.

Very tenderly, his lips touched her forehead.

"Yeah. Thought you should know."

She didn't appear to be any more comfortable – obviously, something else was haunting her. Kaiba noticed it practically immediately.

Trying to keep all of her dignity, and bracing herself as she expected the worse to come flying from Kaiba's lips, she managed to admit, with a sort of strangled confidence:

"…I didn't want him to touch me," she murmured, her eyes still fixed pointedly away from his own.

_Touch me_

He understood that she was referring to the ghastly aggression she had undergone and wasn't completely certain how it all had even turned out, seeing as she was already half in a coma by the time he attacked her on the cold floor of that hangar.

A malicious glow came to her eyes as she remembered the bastard. And even though she didn't dare to finish the rest of her thoughts aloud, it looked as if he had heard her confession. And the worried lines on his face had once more relaxed into nothing.

_I know. I know that you belong to me, Naomi…_

"Did he..." she began, in a voice stripped of confidence.

Rage broiled up again in Kaiba's body, knowing that it was taking very little to set him off now.

But yet again, he drew upon his own fears to comfort her, hiding the true emotions clawing at him behind his voice.

"No, he didn't."

_He wouldn't have lived one more minute. I would have killed him with my bare hands, Naomi._

She scrutinized him hard, looking for the slightest sign that he was trying to protect her from herself.

"Do you promise that- "

But he promptly cut her off.

"Yes, I promise. He didn't touch you."

_I was afraid I might be late… because…._

His cold eyes indicated to her that he wasn't lying. Not even for the sole profit of reassuring her.

With even more tenderness, he put his arm around her.

"Try to sleep a little," he whispered as he waited for her to finally close her eyes.

"Yeah… okay," she said, exhausted.

.. .. ..

_He's like a martyr. Tortured day at night for even daring to think to put his hands on you. But it's still not enough. It'll never be enough for him._

A bitter, disgusting smile came to Kaiba's lips, whose thoughts were then suddenly interrupted.

"Who? Who's tortured? " she asked, numb with a sleep that was taking its precious time in coming.

Stupefied, as if he suddenly didn't remember if he had said the words out loud or had kept them for himself, he appeared lightly troubled.

But he was sure of it. He hadn't said anything. How could she have heard him?

"I didn't say anything, Naomi. It must have been a bad dream."

"Yeah… of course," she murmured before finally falling asleep.

Now, he could get to sleep himself. She had begun to open up to him. And he had decided to not rush things.

"Kaiba!" she spluttered out dryly.

She had opened her eyes as she spoke to give the allusion that she was still fully alert.

"What day is it? Tell me!"*

She looked panicked.

"Thursday, I believe," he answered, pressed by the desire to calm her.

"No, what _day_? Is it Christmas?"

He sighed.

"No. It's the twenty-third. It's in two days."

He even surprised himself; he hadn't even thought about it since before Naomi and Mokuba had been rescued.

Naomi's face contorted so much she seemed on the verge of exploding.

"Oh my god!" she shouted. "Help me up!"

Kaiba held her back in the bed, for better or for worse.

"What?" he demanded, not exactly sure what to think.

_What the hell is she thinking?_

"I really have to do something. I'm already late!"

She began to tremble again, trying to rise once more.

"If you do not calm down, I'll tie you to the bed," he warned her, his anger already beginning to sprout.

"But you don't understand!" she babbled. "I have to _go_!"

Kaiba got up then, holding his breath.

"Alright then. Just calm down."

She shook her head frenetically, torn in half between the desire to not tell him anything and the duty to do so.

"It's important!" she insisted.

Kaiba, taking care not to hurt her, pinned her down.

"That's enough, Naomi. You're not going."

She froze under the icy, authoritative tone he had summoned.

Then she let herself fall back down onto her pillow.

"No, no, I'll miss it all…"

Kaiba sat beside her, the air of superiority seemingly oozing out of him.

"Alright. What's this all about?"

But she shook her head no, helpless.

"Naomi. If I can help you, I will. But you have to tell me what's wrong."

She didn't have any other choice.

"It's not about me. It's for the kids at the orphanage," she admitted with a large sigh.

Of course.

Kaiba softened upon registering the reason. He knew it. Even though he probably hadn't wanted to admit it. It was just, with all the recent events, nobody had thought about it.

"I…"

She looked quite pained to have been forced to tell him her secret.

"I give them presents… I come to see them and this year… I'm late. They have to be wondering where I am."

Kaiba, more concerned than ever, couldn't help but feel moved, lost in admiration. He would have loved to have met a person so devoted and charitable as hers when he was a child.

"I haven't gone through my list. They're going to think I've forgotten about them…"

So this was how she had spent the last few Christmases, her heart wide and magnanimous, piously hoping to not once shrink to a mere shadow of what she was the year before.

Kaiba was speechless, stupefied. She was making him remember so many bad memories. But the ocean of her humanity could melt all the glaciers of the fortress of his heart.

"Help me," she begged him.

She went to try to get up a third time. But Kaiba, concerned about the fact she was still awakening, stopped her.

"Where's your list?"

For a split second, he thought he recognized something in her expression.

"In my bag. But I don't know where it- "

"Okay. I'll be back. And I'm warning you…"

He pointed his finger at her to make sure that he would be obeyed.

"Do _not _move from that bed. Understand?"

She hated being here at his mercy. But she didn't have any other realistic options. Submitting, she bowed her head.

Before she knew it, he came back with the bag that his men had found in the hotel hallway before her disappearance, and dropped it beside her.

Shocked, she still hastened to find the piece of paper she coveted so badly. Kaiba allowed her pause, putting one hand on hers.

"Is this it?"

She nodded again.

In a single fluid motion, he snapped up his cell phone.

"Roland, come up here."

Apparently, everything boiled down to a phone call for Kaiba. Naomi wasn't sure if she should be worried or relieved about that.

Roland quickly made his appearance just past the doorframe to take custody of the list, feet respectfully behind the line.

Nobody entered Kaiba's bedroom. He certainly was no exception.

"I require that everything be done in the given order. And I want it all to be completed before the end of the day. Understood?"

"Yes, sir," Roland said, bowing respectfully.

"But I have to _go _there," Naomi almost shouted. But Kaiba cut her off.

"No. You are not moving from that spot. My men can take care of themselves."

Roland, waiting in the hallway, started to leave but was held back by his boss, who had strode up to him to make sure that Naomi would not overhear the rest of the conversation.

"I have another request."

Kaiba let his eyes wander over to Naomi, who was trying to hear what he was saying, unravel whatever mystery.

"I want every child in the orphanage to receive our newest model of the Duel Disk and a new duel monsters deck for each of them. Assure also that they can amuse themselves with whatever toys that they desire. And also…"

Roland felt his heart melt with all of the sudden generosity, but he kept attentively listening.

"… they should not go hungry. Bring them the best candy you can find. Anything necessary so that they can have a wonderful Christmas."

"That's very generous of you, sir," Roland told him sheepishly. "But there's a chance that we can't do all of this by – "

"Everything should be ready by, say, tomorrow afternoon. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, sir," Roland bowed again.

Kaiba then seemed to remember something, and it happened to be a much more serious.

"Oh. By the way… how is…"

Kaiba didn't finish his sentence, instead anxiously taking another look back at Naomi.

Luckily his assistant knew whom he was talking about without having to press him for more information. Especially since he had had some time, although fleeting, to lament the damage that had been inflicted on the woman in question.

"Badly, sir. But we're making sure her end isn't anywhere in sight, just as you asked for."

"Good. Very good," Kaiba responded vacantly, his eyes still glued to Naomi.

.. .. ..

"Happy?" Kaiba asked as he joined her once more.

But Naomi didn't feel any more reassured; the remorse had not yet left.

"What?" he asked as he sat by her side, seeing that she could herself sit up if supported by the numerous quantity of pillows surrounding her. "You don't trust me?"

She barely had the courage to look back up at him, visibly ill at ease.

"No, that's not it," she said. "Only… I'm not like you. I'm not used to – "

But she cut herself off suddenly, as if afraid of wounding him.

"I mean – I guess I mean I just don't deal with things with a phone call…. and I don't give orders, you see."

_Why does she criticize me all the time? Does she think I have all the time in the world? I'm in charge of an important company. It's important to give orders and to be obeyed._

She paused, biting her lip, conscious that perhaps she hadn't managed to correctly convey her thoughts.

"I appreciate what you've just done. I really do. It's just I would have preferred to do it myself. You know? It's more… personal."

In a relieved grin, which he still tried to hide from her, he replied:

"I know. But you can't… you'll get tired too quickly. Don't worry. My men will take care of it, I'm sure. _And_…"

Without really meaning to do so, Kaiba had closed the distance between their faces, as if he were trying to breathe in the scent of a flower.

"… you can verify everything before it ever leaves for the orphanage. They'll bring everything here beforehand. Alright?"

_Can I kiss you? Hold you against me?_

Naomi raised his eyes towards him, and then let them fall away again.

"Thanks," she breathed quietly.

But this time, Kaiba was not about to let her flee from his gaze. Tenderly, he cupped her chin with his fingers, then let them softly slide over her cheek.

A joyous smile sprung to his lips as he felt her shiver at his touch and close her eyes as if she were losing control of herself. He couldn't help but wrap his arms around her and hold her close. Lost in the bliss of holding her to him, he momentarily forgot the risk that it could cause further harm; curiously, however, she did not try to shake off his grasp despite the fact she was holding her breath due to the pain. He even had the sense to notice a small groan escape her when their bodies drew closer.

Then, without completely letting her go, he stopped the tight hug.

"Sorry," he whispered.

A funny gurgling noise signaled the end of the embrace; and Kaiba guessed correctly that Naomi was hungry.

"What do you want to eat? I'll have it sent up."

"No. I'd like to go down to the kitchen."

"I think you should stay here."

But she insisted.

"I need to move around a little."

But the idea didn't please Kaiba at all, who preferred her immobile to injured even more than she was now.

She, however, succeeded in mustering the words that drew out his permission to go. Touching words.

"I don't think you'd let me fall. What could happen if you go with me?"

_She trusts me, _he repeated to himself, happily given a boost of confidence.

He took a moment to scrutinize her black stare. She was really pulling hard on the heartstrings.

"…Fine."

No, he didn't like the idea. But he had promised. He would be there.

The path to the dining room seemed very long but Kaiba had an uncharacteristic patience, and he walked at her speed, never seeming to want to rush her.

Marie, who Naomi had met a bit earlier at the Kaiba mansion, now came from another room to intercept them.

"Oh, madam, I'm so happy to see you again."

Then came Mokuba, who was meeting up with them as he went to have lunch. He flitted around the two like a butterfly, joyous to see her recovering at such a brisk pace.

He then helped his brother sit her down comfortably.

Departing from his normal self even further, Kaiba chose to not distance himself from the pair, and placed them beside him on one far end of the table.

"What would you like to eat, madam?" Marie hastened to ask Naomi.

She stayed silent, still deciding on her final choice.

"Err…"

She seemed troubled, hardly daring to order something as if she were in a restaurant.

"Come on, Naomi. Don't worry. Order whatever you want," Mokuba laughed, amused at the spectacle.

"Err… just a bit of gruel, I think…." she murmured timidly.

Kaiba's eyebrows shot upwards, as if to question her choice of a meal. But she ignored his reprobation.

"Yes… a little bit of gruel, that'd be great, thanks, Marie."

Marie seemed shell-shocked to have been spoken to so politely.

"Of course, ma'am. With pleasure."

Then she hastened for the kitchen.

Kaiba had been equally surprised. He bossed people around, without even worrying about thanking them. It was his personality.

"They're paid to do their job. You don't have to thank them or beg them, at least under _my _roof."

Naomi immediately bristled with irritation.

"Well, I don't care," she snapped dryly.

But Kaiba realized his mistake too late. Even Mokuba shot him a reproachful look. He didn't quite grasp how his brother could look so odious if he cared about him that much, all for the sake of superiority and hierarchy.

The atmosphere had quickly gone sour.

_What's wrong with me? It's who I am, after all, sadly. But she has to learn I cannot allow myself that kind of weakness. It sounded so good in my head, too_, Kaiba thought to himself, bitterly regretting the whole affair.

But he stood up straighter, proud, as if nothing at all had occurred to him.

_Kaiba, you're such a monster._

Marie soon came back with lunch, Mokuba and Kaiba eating some of the same food Naomi had requested.

When she had finished serving the three their gruel, Naomi brushed Marie's arm gently.

"Thank you very much, Marie. That was very kind of you."

Marie froze, perfectly conscious of Kaiba's eyes boring furiously into the table in annoyance. But she bowed curtly, and then left them.

Except this time, Kaiba decided not to fan the flames and kept quiet.

She did it on purpose. He wouldn't forget it. It was exactly as if she had taken somebody else's orders in his house, humiliating him and debasing his authority.

He didn't doubt the fact that she was sympathetic for Naomi. But she had deliberately responded to her.

Naomi chose to not further offend him. She didn't care if it angered him or not. He had no right to treat people as if they were less than nothing. She had been horrified to discover the treatment, and had jumped to their defense three fourths of the time.

"Do you have classes today, Mokuba?"

"Oh, yeah," Mokuba said quickly, eager to find some similarity between the three again.

But she was mainly interested only in him.

"What's your favorite?"

"Math!" he claimed immediately.

Kaiba was beginning to lose his patience, hating more than ever being so voluntarily ignored.

He got up without warning, and came back several minutes later with his laptop underneath his arm.

Mokuba, not fooled by his brother's sulking, rolled his eyes towards the heavens as he wondered how thick-headed he could possibly act.

"You haven't told me yet," he then said to Naomi. "What's _your_ favorite subject?"

"Oh. I would say… French. And history… and English, too… and…"

Mokuba broke into laughter upon hearing the smattering of different disciplines.

"…and math, and geography…"

If she had turned around then, she would have even seen a meager smile on Kaiba's face, who, without realizing it, was listening more than he thought he really was. But the grin was wiped away as soon as it had appeared.

"So, you like them all," Mokuba said again, who hadn't stopped chortling.

Naomi couldn't help but laugh a little along with him, which made Kaiba suddenly feel very hot, even though it was normally relaxing to hear her voice.

He was happy, however, that the two beings he loved most in the world understood each other so well.

"Oh, no, you're kidding!" she said. "I hate P.E. and physics and…"

Again, Mokuba broke into more laughter.

"Well, anything having to do with the word "physical", I think," she admitted.

She noticed the slip-up too late.

Kaiba couldn't stop a very frank smile now.

"How curious," he said loudly. "When we all know how well you excel in – "

But he didn't finish the last thought as his eyes directly met with her enflamed ones. Then she reddened violently.

More than simply satisfied, Kaiba turned back to his computer, resting on his laurels.

"Oh," Mokuba said simply, his eyes shifting quickly between anywhere but them.

He had just understood the reference his brother had made regarding the famous… discipline. Shooting up out of his seat, he stood, preferring to leave them to debate it in private. But he understood the relationship between them a tiny bit better now.

"Well, bye. I have to go."

Naomi didn't turn around, but wish him as well a marvelous day, and then pushed her bowl of gruel away from her, having finished it.

"You did that on purpose, didn't you?"

Kaiba's eyes didn't leave his computer screen.

"May I mention that you did, too. We're even," he replied proudly.

That hurt her more than anything.

"Fine," she nearly sobbed.

Marie then approached to clear off the table.

"Marie," she said, readying all of the courage she had left to muster. "I would like for you to call a taxi and to ready all of my bags, if I have any. _Please_."

Marie stopped, and in a rare moment of inability to self-restrain, Kaiba's fist slammed down onto the table; he was shaking in rage but trying almost inhumanely to keep from screaming.

_Stop, Naomi!_

"I certainly wouldn't want to keep abusing _Mr. Kaiba's _very _generous _hospitality," she dared continue.

Marie feared an earthquake less than the wrath of her boss.

"Get out, Marie," he managed to say, successfully keeping his legendary sang-froid.

She didn't need to be told twice before she rushed out of the room, a gust of wind.

Naomi didn't like how angry he was either, but she decided wisely to not consider it and began to rise from her chair, feeling a quick shock of pain as she did so.

But Kaiba had sat down at the table directly in front of her, and he reached across and held her back by taking hold of her shoulders. He took care, extraordinarily given his fury, to not push down too hard. But she had still shaken at the sudden clamp.

"Now, that's enough. You will not leave this house, whether you like it or not. Do I make myself clear?"

Naomi met his glare with one perhaps even more terrible. She was more than insulted.

_I'm not one of your damn employees. Who do you think you are?_

"And just how long do you believe you can imprison me here for?"

Kaiba flinched at the remark. He hadn't been expecting it.

_What? No, not that-_

But on the outside, he turned even stormier.

"As long as I wish."

"You really think you can keep me here?"

"I will tie you down if I have to."

_What did I just say?_

She gasped in outrage.

"Then what are you gonna do? Torture me some more? You think I'm used to –?"

She quickly fell silent, not wanting him to understand the allusion she had subconsciously just let slip.

But it was too late: she had just punched him in the stomach, without meaning to, and she knew it full well.

Kaiba simply gawked, trembling in rage and wounded in one of the deepest parts of his person. She had already suffered so much both for and before him. And now the fact seemed to be climbing up his throat.

She waited in vain for the retort that never came: he stayed silent, his eyes turned away from her.

"May I… go…to bed?" she asked, irony dancing on her tongue as she spoke.

Suddenly, Kaiba found again how to be calm, bitterly reproachful for what he had done.

Filled with remorse, he hung his head.

"Wait… I'll help you."

But she rejected him, slapping his hand away.

"I don't need you," she insisted with certainty.

_Stop, Naomi. You're hurting me. Can't you see that?_

But Naomi didn't bother to see as she straightened, despite the waves of pain.

Again, she refused his help when he tried supporting her by holding on to her shoulders.

"You can watch if you want. But don't come near me."

The war had started again far faster than he would have wanted. Then again, for a short time, he thought it might have even been over. He began shaking again. This time out of fear. Fear of maybe having to watch her fall and injure herself again. Fear of maybe having to watch her evade him again.

He never strayed more than three feet from her, religiously following her footsteps, one by one.

_I don't need you_, she had said to him. Twice.

He was scared now that maybe that might be true.

_Why are things so difficult, Naomi? It's not what I want. But what do _you _want? Tell me._

Worried and so admiring at the same time, he kept behind her, praising her with occasional glances. She was so strong. Much too strong for him, he suddenly realized, as if for the first time becoming conscious of other beings inhabiting the planet who were just as gifted as he was.

There was nothing easy about her. And yet she seemed so simple.

And she was distancing herself from him again.

_Wait! Don't turn your back on me. Not again._

She arrived in the bedroom where, incapable of waiting any longer, he rushed up from behind and solidly took grip of her arm.

She was about to protest that his body was far too close to her own when suddenly she saw his head dive below the level of her neck.

"Forgive me," he said with difficulty.

_Forgive me? What the… _

But he didn't say on that thought for long.

Which moved her.

"I didn't have the right. I had no right," he said.

He felt her become calm, surrender the fight in wrenching her arm away.

"But… I never wanted to hurt you. _Ever_."

His heart was beating much more quickly than normal. This fact didn't go unnoticed by Naomi, who brought her own heart into contact with his. She closed her eyes.

"You don't need me, I know," he began again.

_Seto, I lied. _

"…but… let me help you. I beg you," he whispered, almost as if he didn't want her to overhear him.

"…you…beg…me?"

A shiver whipped through the two bodies, as if leaping between them.

_She's making me insane. Enough for an asylum._

She couldn't help breaking into a tender smile when she felt Kaiba's member harden who, in such a tight embrace, had no hope of hiding it.

Wrecked as he was, he wanted her as ardently as he had on the first day, no concessions, no compromises.

But despite his maddening desire, he wasn't pushing things to go farther, happy to hold her in his arms and to for her to stay that way.

On the verge of admitting her own desire to touch his body, she softly detached herself, not wanting to risk provoking him.

Her long journey from the ground floor had drained her of any force she had left. She wasn't in top shape to begin with. And she felt the weight of fatigue piling itself on ever further.

Having finally reached the bed, Kaiba laid down by her side.

"Can I stay?"

In the middle of willing her eyes to remain open, she breathed gently:

"If you sing me a lullaby or tell me a story."

Kaiba couldn't help but run his fingers through her hair. But he scoffed quietly at their little game.

"And if I don't?" he responded, signaling that he was not deign to carry out any of her demands.

She simply smiled and, energy gone, suddenly fell sound asleep.

_She has you in the palms of her hands. She can crush you with a single fell swoop. Get a hold of yourself. You can't just stay here mulling around like some idiot. You're a _prisoner_! Oh, the irony. You can run the world, but you're incapable of running your heart. Get a move on. Get a hold of yourself before it's too late! Come on! Are you Kaiba or aren't you? Hello?_

His eyes merely took in the sight of Naomi sleeping peacefully away.

_Too late!_

_

* * *

_

* Oh you'll find out. I'm about to summon it. (YGOTAS ref, sorry.)

** So Christmas is on Saturday… that means it's either 1993, 1999, 2004 or 2010 in the story. I'm saying 2004 here, because in Chapter 1 it claims Kaiba's 23, which means he'd be born in 1980 and his 24th birthday would be in 2004.

*** I dunno if some countries call it something different, because I was born an "ignorant American", but if you don't know, P.E. stands for 'physical education'.


	11. Chapter 11

Well, here's chapter eleven. Doing them as I can at this point. Hopefully I'll find some way to do these faster, but this week was midterms for me. This story is Melzart's, and the anime belongs to Kazuki Takahashi.

* * *

**Appearances**

_by Melzart_

**. . . **

Chapter 11

_A Little Warmth_

Kaiba profited from Naomi's short nap to leave her for a few moments. He had gone back down to the kitchen where he regained possession of his laptop and got another coffee as a traveling companion. He still didn't want to distance himself from her for too long due to his worry, but this time, her hot-headedness had just been asking to go beyond what he was capable of dealing with. He was sure of it: if she were alone, she'd go through anything to stand up, including hurting herself again. So he would personally look after her until he was sure that such a thing would not happen, and thus he was, well despite his normal self, essentially playing the role of babysitter.

… … …

_I know you won't like it too much but I have to. Then there's Mokuba. And you… I have to leave. Even if you don't want to._

It was becoming more and more humiliating to consistently find herself at the mercy of somebody else, and it was profoundly irritating. Of course she understood that her current state prevented her from running marathons or something. And even though she empathized with the worry he had over her, she wasn't obliged to actually feel it herself. Sooner or later, she'd have to take things back into her own hands and start over, this time with more autonomy.

With one hand, she pushed into the side of the bed, using the other one to raise her body into a sitting position. The clock read twelve-thirty in the afternoon.

_Good. Made it. Now, let's see if I can get all the way up._

Unsure, she softly slid one foot out from beneath the covers, then the rest of that leg, followed by the other.

_If he shows up, I can tell him I've got a little bit of an emergency. _

"Going somewhere?"

The action which was once so habitual, so banal, had now demanded so much concentration she hadn't even noticed his presence.

_Grr… doesn't he have anything better to do?_

Kaiba had seen everything and, partly unlike himself, had kept his eyes on her severely, dissatisfied with her initiative. He put his computer and his coffee on the desk, then walked over and stood in front of her, arms crossed and staring at her strictly, demanding an explanation.

"I have to learn how to move about," she admitted frankly.

Just as intimidating, he didn't quite believe her.

"I can't take this anymore. I'm not an invalid, okay? And I have to get up," she said again, ready to spring upward.

Even the tone she had taken with him must have meant nothing, as he was visibly quite obstinate to make no compromises.

"I'll be careful, I promise."

He sighed, then crouched in front of her, preventing her from moving any further.

"Can I know what you're doing, exactly?"

_Ugh, what an ass. He still doesn't want me to leave._

She hesitated for several seconds before she opened her mouth again.

"I have things to do."

Kaiba raised his eyebrows, and stayed dangerously silent.

"Fine. I admit that your bed is comfortable, warm, and soft, but…" she began.

Then she ran into another brick wall. Not even gentler words could come to her when she was face-to-face with this man.

_I know it isn't easy. I hate it too. But I don't want to take risks, Naomi_, he thought, perfectly conscious of the irritation that was beginning to envelop her.

She seemed out of argumentative ideas, sent over the edge by his insistent look.

"I really am going to end up tying you down, aren't I?" he breathed, sighing a bit as he did so.

_That would please me well enough, I think._

Yet he didn't let himself revel in the feelings his last thought had just brought him.

She raised a look filled with injustice towards him.

"That's enough," she began again, her patience now down to its last few threads. "I know you don't like it. But I have to leave. If it weren't Christmas, I'd probably be happy to recuperate a little further. But… I have work. Like you do, with your company and your brother."

Kaiba stayed silent, pitiless. It was terrifying.

But right at the moment where she believed she was about to start screaming, he murmured gently:

"But what's so important? Who can't wait?"

Naomi gave out a large sigh of annoyance.

"Do I really have to tell you _everything_?"

"I'm afraid so. If not, I'm afraid I won't let you leave this bed."

She breathed curtly, visibly outraged that she had essentially been reduced to begging him.

"All this has to bring some sort of pleasure, right?"

_How could you judge me so severely? You really think I'm insensible?_

"No."

He spoke the word with such sincerity that she understood that she had hurt him, and calmed down a tiny amount.

"I didn't tell you everything," she admitted. "I regularly visit the orphanage. And every year on Christmas Eve I spend several hours there. I've done it ever since I first came to this country."

Kaiba hadn't yet torn away his impassible gaze, but inside, he was touched, and his heart was aching. He had turned his back on so many of his life's painful moments. But she – she took them straight on, put them in their place. For no apparent reason.

"I know… it sounds a bit bizarre. But it's a commitment I feel obligated to complete and I can't miss it. It's important. For _me._"

She had had some trouble ending her sentence without getting herself choked up.

However, between the two of them, she was not the most emotional. He was now staring at her without really looking at her, torn between painful memories and the desire to get in bed with her. But none of this appeared on his face.

"Fine," he whispered. "But that's tomorrow, so what's so special today?"

"It's for Mokuba, and… I was going to ask you- "

"That's easy, just tell me what you want and I'll – "

"No!" she spat brusquely. "I want to do things myself."

Kaiba stood violently.

"Out of the question," he coldly responded.

"But stop!" she hissed at him.

In her excitement, she had jerked so quickly that pain once again began to assail her.

More concerned than ever, he found himself squatting by her side once more.

"I will not have the risk of you aggravating any of your wounds."

She saw his worry clearly now.

"I'll be very careful."

"No."

"So… come with me, then."

"Naomi!" he admonished, only partly convinced. "What about all the riffraff that could -?"

"Come with me."

He was on the verge of flaring up again. All of this seemed too _risqué _for him. Even if he stayed as best as he could by her side, he could not, without great difficulty, push away a hurried crowd that could easily knock her over inadvertently. She was still too fragile.

Even whilst imagining the worst scenarios in his head, he couldn't avert the stormy expression which was mangling the features of his creature's beautiful face.

"You really want to?"

"Yes, I do," she answered.

He would have smiled at the reply if he hadn't been afraid that she could notice. She was ready to do almost anything, in detriment to her own health, just to prove her point. But he was the one that had to show her even more.

In a beat, he stood for the second time.

"Fine, okay. I have an idea," he said dryly. "This time, I'm forbidding you from criticizing me. Moreover, we're playing by my rules!"

She wasn't in the best position to negotiate.

"I will ask that stores remain open a little bit longer. That way, there will be no one but us when you got to the mall."

She went to protest, but stopped cold at Kaiba's glare.

"There is no way I am letting you on your feet. You will be seated while you shop. Either Roland or I will accompany you, for your security."

_Wait… a… wheelchair? He wants to just laugh at me, doesn't he?_

She kept her furious eyes trained on him.

"This isn't a suggestion. Take my offer or leave it," he insisted gravely.

"This is a nightmare," she hissed between her teeth.

"I'm not through," Kaiba continued. "On the subject of your visit to the orphanage, if you really wish to go there, I agree that you may go…"

He focused, trying not to let any emotion leak into his voice or wash over his face.

"…On the condition that I go with you."

She was fuming; horrified, even, that he had had the opportunity to waltz into the intimate parts of her life, despite the fact she knew he thought it was for her own good.

"You are under no such obligation," she said.

But Kaiba was unwavering.

"Fine," she sighed.

While he went off to organize everything, principally by phone, she stayed there for a moment, thinking.

_I have to get dressed. Wait…_

Then her pensiveness turned to shock – she had just realized everything that would have to happen before she could finally wind up at the orphanage.

_Oh my god. I have to… How the hell will I do that? Oh no!_

Bewildered by her own thoughts, she became greatly distressed: the most sensitive part of the operation had nothing to do with simply getting dressed and leaving.

She couldn't move, her embarrassment causing her eyes to fix themselves on the floor and off of Kaiba. She was reddening like a school-girl, silently panicking.

"What?" he asked, realizing that something was causing her to suddenly shy away.

"I… I haven't…" she stammered, not knowing quite how to phrase it.

_I'm so scared. Really… the humiliation!..._

"…I forgot something…" she admitted, suddenly becoming quite queasy.

Kaiba stepped closer to the bed again, his eyes boring into her.

"It's been a long time since I…" she said, reddening even further.

She stopped for a moment.

Kaiba leaned over her, trying to guess what she was trying to say.

"I don't even remember the last time I took…"

Curiously, she looked at him then.

"… a shower," she whispered.

Kaiba flinched, now shocked himself.

"Don't bother," he responded quickly. "There's a risk of you falling and- "

"I know," she interrupted him, "You're right, but…"

He was convinced – the worst had not yet come.

"You can't refuse me this. This is a question of hygiene… and it's been a long time since…"

He was paralysed, understanding she was completely right. But he still didn't quite grasp how she could manage to do it… without help.

A violent blush erupted on Kaiba's cheeks.

_Oh no. You aren't going to ask me to – _

"And because I can't do it alone," she began, "I don't know anyone else I could ask for help… but you."

_She said it… oh, no… Naomi, you have no idea what you're asking of me!_

He didn't know how to respond to her request, even though it was quite legitimate.

It was true that in a more normal time… he wouldn't have anything against it. It would have given him indescribable pleasure. But now, where things had become so complicated between them and it was no longer a simple question of getting horny, he was quite unsure of himself.

Because above all, he was a man. Filled with desire.

Such a violent desire.

_You don't know what you're asking._

"I know it can't be too easy or pleasant for you," she dared to continue on. "But I can't think of anybody else."

_Oh, but it's _not _touching you that I can't stand, Naomi._

"Besides, it's not like you haven't seen me before… so…" her voice trailed off.

_That's exactly what the problem is!_

She was just as sickened as he was. For the completely opposite reason.

"Please," she breathed, against her will.

_Come on, Kaiba. You can't stay quiet. Besides, you've seen her before._

_Oh yes._

"Very well. Don't move," he finally succeeded in articulating.

Placing all of his courage in front of him, or at least while any still lasted, he first assured that they would not be disturbed, and then helped her to the bathroom, where he closed the door firmly behind them.

_I can do it. I just have to not look. That's it. I just…_

Naomi stood still for a couple of seconds, completely straight and in the middle of the room, feeling completely absurd.

_This is so weird… it's like I'm at the doctor's office._

But the doctor had nothing to do with Kaiba. Nothing and all.

_And what if he…?_

She didn't want to think any further. Everything was already so nauseating.

Then again, why was it strictly necessary for her to need anybody else?

She still didn't dare to move, timid, cheeks pink with fury and shame.

Kaiba, more than feeling equally awkward, easily supposed the trouble she was brewing in, stemming off of her undesired dependence.

But he didn't dare approach her to help her remove her clothes, never mind simply watching her do it herself.

With some difficulty, she managed to slip her pajama bottoms to about where her thighs began, without needing to bend over.

He finally had to intervene despite himself, seeing the difficulty of the task.

"Wait," he whispered as he placed his fingers on the fabric and pulled it downward.

He crouched down to help her to remove the pants completely. When he went to look up at her, he instead found himself staring at her nude legs. Which stopped his élan on the spot.

More embarrassed than before, Naomi then did the same for her underwear, her eyes averting his throughout the process.

_I can't… the smell… _Kaiba told himself when he saw the undergarment on the floor.

He breathed in a large volume of air and closed his eyes.

_Don't think about it._

He finally stood, and he had trouble looking at her in full.

But the scene he had before his eyes gave him more countenance. She was frozen, like a deer in headlights, staring at him in outrage, prey to the worst humiliation in her entire life.

Gently, he put his hands on her arms.

_It's alright. It's just me, Naomi. Just me and you._

"You can still change your mind, you know," he reminded her tenderly.

_I would understand._

Seto Kaiba capable of understanding? Of forgetting?

Definitely.

His hot breath blew through Naomi's hair, and she felt nothing but sweetness.

As if she were suddenly reassured, she grabbed the hem of her shirt, ready to take it off.

_Of course he's already seen you. Oh, you have a few bruises and scars, but on the whole, he knows you. Well, if he remembers._

Kaiba probably would have sold an arm and a leg to gain the power to not want to stare at her, because he knew if he did so she would feel even more embarrassed than she was already. Without a hitch, though, he managed to help her into the shower.

"Don't move, okay? Not even an inch," he ordered her before he started to strip down as well.

_What have I gotten myself into? Grr… I'm strong. I'm Kaiba. I can do it. Ugh… what's gotten into me? I feel like a stalker._

It was true that until then no emotion had been able to completely overpower Kaiba's straightforward line of vision. It was not normal for him to be the prey – so easily – to this type of desire, reason always having dictated both his mind and his body. And now by merely looking at her, he lost equilibrium and found himself at her mercy. He certainly tried, by any means available, to return behind the curtain of his cold logic and unreadable mask. But it was all just a question of appearances: inside, he was outside; fragile, like a dry twig exposed to an open flame, and on the verge of the worst blaze.

She herself tried desperately to not look at him as well. But she shivered slightly given the cold. Shaking himself out of his torpor, Kaiba hurried when he saw her shake, not realizing he was beginning to put his clothes back _on._

Then it was astonishment.

He had of course seen her before and had imprinted every millimeter of her body into his memory, but what he saw perturbed him, if not anything more.

She was nude, and beautiful. Despite the bruises. Despite everything.

And so vulnerable.

"Do you want to…?" she started to say, not looking at him.

"Yeah. Wait," he said, snapping out of his reverie.

He joined her in the shower, where he turned on the faucets and allowed the water to reach a temperature that was pleasantly warm.

Still lightly tense, Naomi suddenly laughed nervously, which she attempted to hide under a tease.

"Do you always shower with…?"

She pointed to the undergarment that he hadn't taken the time to remove before he had rushed to her when he saw her tremble due to the cold.

How often would he blush today?

_If you were me, you'd probably be laughing less, _he thought as he rid of it, knowing that she'd probably react.

Her entire response consisted of turning her back to him.

He didn't stop his eyes from taking her body in.

She was about to take the soap when his hand shot in front of hers, which had caused him to lightly incline towards her, his head right above her shoulder.

"May I?"

She retracted her hand quickly, not wishing to compete with him.

Tenderly, he wrapped one hand around Naomi to prevent her from falling in case she slipped, and with the other, brought the soap to Naomi's wet skin.

"You don't have to," she said.

"I know," he breathed, focused on washing her back and shoulders.

Instinctively he leaned in towards her again; the soap – more accurately, his hand – sliding over her thighs, then reaching around to her stomach in an unending caress.

Both of them closed their eyes, feeling equally the will to feel the other come closer.

_I missed you, Naomi._

But Kaiba took great care to not let himself touch her body outside of what he was required to do, knowing that it was now impossible to hide the flagrant desire that victimized him.

_Dangerous… this might have been a bad idea._

Only, against all hope, she let herself fall upon Kaiba's body, who welcomed it tenderly, holding her against him, his soapy fingers slowly climbing her chest.

He held his breath, not wanting to be the one to shatter the moment.

She blushed, then, as she turned around. Her eyes lowered, thus having all the leisure to notice the thing that rubbed hard against her lower back.

This time, he didn't redden with her.

Since when was it shameful to prove that you want someone?

"It's not as if… you've never seen it before," he murmured, trying desperately to not spiritedly start _it_ with her.

"True," she breathed in a sort of pleased half-laugh.

Unable to control himself any longer, Kaiba brought her firmly against him, placed his hand on her cheek and raised her head, where he united his lips with hers in a fiery kiss.

_I was scared for you, Naomi._

Overtaken by dizziness, Naomi proved herself incapable of holding back a long shiver, almost silent, but sufficiently perceptible to Kaiba's hearing.

_I like to hear you… Naomi. And to feel you against me._

"Stop," she murmured, without really wanting to.

_I know I shouldn't be in the same state you are… but I can't stop._

"No," he responded weakly, his mouth occupied with Naomi's neck, and she melted at his touch.

An expected form of help suddenly materialized when Mokuba, from the other side of the door, was worrying about their absence.

"Naomi? Are you there? Seto?" he shouted.

The two froze, as if they had just been caught robbing a bank. But between them, Kaiba was the angriest at the intrusion. He breathed in sharply, and his head bowed in discouragement.

"Everything's fine, Mokuba," he answered. "I'm helping Naomi… take a shower."

"Oh," Mokuba exclaimed, suddenly quite ashamed of having disturbed them.

_Woah… that's really… intimate…_

"We're done, though, Mok- " Naomi began.

"No," Kaiba said, taken aback but intoxicated by her scent.

"Seto," she scolded quietly, unsure.

"Seto?" he asked her gently, flattered upon hearing his first name come from her lips.

But she corrected herself automatically.

"Kaiba."

But she was interrupted by a long kiss on the side of her neck.

"Seto," he insisted, making it clear that he would accept no other name. _For you, it's Seto._

"You know we have to get out."

"There's no rush.. we have all the time we need," he mumbled.

Kaiba didn't release his grip, alarmingly languorous.

_I didn't promise you anything this time, Naomi. Anything, _he thought, relieved that he couldn't be one-upped later after he failed to hold up his end of some bargain.

"Stop," she breathed again, and broke away from him gently, as if she wished to mask the pleasant shiver that was running up her back and down again.

"Tell me you're not dying to… as much as I am…" he whispered between two kisses.

_Dare, Naomi, if you can._

But he received no response.

She had lost her way, drunk under the influence of his touch . She avoided his gaze, powerless to resist him.

An unexplainable joy seized Kaiba, whose body was now sweating, and which was running his fingers over Naomi without needing him to command them to do so.

She was about to crack, abandon hope, when Mokuba's voice broke through again.

"Seto!" he shouted.

Kaiba closed his eyes, furious at the second interruption.

_Mokuba, I am going to personally – _

"Sorry, Seto, but the guards downstairs are looking for you," his little brother hurried to explain.

Kaiba tensed, more menacing than ever, while Naomi breathed out, a relieved smile on her lips.

"Fuck them," he murmured on the subject of his guards, who, in his opinion, could wait for hours.

But Naomi had had enough time to cool off.

Putting her hands on his torso, she still hesitated to push him away completely.

"The gifts," she reminded him. "It's probably important."

Despite himself, the violent Kaiba was no longer able to offer further resistance.

"Fine," he responded loudly to his brother, avoiding showing Naomi his wearied expression.

He finally stepped out of the shower, dried his hips with a towel and took another one expectantly as he waited for Naomi to offer her delicate body.

Barely out of the basin, he snuggled up to her again, emitting a long, regretful sigh which mingled with the throes of a crushing defeat.

_You really don't know what you're asking of me._

She closed her eyes, moved by the same manifest desire as he was.

He turned around, but Naomi's hand caught him.

"Mokuba!" she cried. "Tell them to be patient for a little bit!"

Incapable of looking away now, Naomi let the towel that was wrapped around her fall.

_You see, I'm naked, Seto._

Tenderly, she wrapped her arms around him.

_And I'm entirely yours. Just yours._

Did he hear her secret confession?

A sweet smile came to him as he took her again in his arms, joining their lips in a passionate embrace.

_… I know, Naomi…_

Their bodies danced for several moments to music that nobody else could hear. But as he dragged her along the path back to the bedroom, he took meticulous care that they would not be disturbed by any further intrusion by firmly locking the door to his room.

They stayed a long time standing near the bed, kissing and touching each other, devouring with their lips.

Softly, he chose to sit down first on the edge, hoping to avoid forcing Naomi to exert any effort which would leave her susceptible to the slightest pain.

With an infinite tenderness, his lips flew over her chest and stomach, kissing her body gently as if he hoped he could thereby remove all of her wounds, wipe away the bruising.

She couldn't help but run her fingers through his hair, give a long sigh of pleasure as Kaiba's fingers began to lose themselves between her thighs.

Taking a thousand precautions, he brought her to him, unable to turn his eyes from her face as she let him penetrate her. She accepted this time out of the good grace of feeling detailed, scrutinized, conscious that he had placed so much care, so much sincerity, into each of his actions and that he expected much from her because he had dared to reveal unto her whom he truly was.

Many men would never have considered whether she was hurt or no and would have taken her without consideration; but Kaiba, the most pitiless, most cruel of men, showed the greatest sensibility.

Also, she revealed to him, while trying to restrain herself simultaneously to some extent, the immense pleasure she felt immediately upon contact.

Her skin burned beneath his fingers, the soft and interminable tickling growing ever larger as if by need, the need to feel him ever deeper inside.

She mitigated the sound that escaped from her lips when she joined them with his. But Kaiba was not fooled by the deception; his fingers could easily see extent of her delirium as it crashed cyclically over her body.

And she trembled. Now and forever, unable to hide anything.

Even her breath was filled with so many emotions.

Kaiba, completely inebriated, barely suppressed his own tender groan of pleasure as he adjusted his rhythm to match her own.

Without thinking she moved too suddenly, which gave rise to a terrible tearing through her side, causing her to become stunned for a few moments.

_Idiot!_

He instantly congealed, furious with himself for not having foreseen the action and holding her more closely to him. His eyes held worry and anger.

_He's not thinking about himself._

She softened upon seeing his reaction, unable to avoid his expression of gratitude and genuine affection, and soon she reunited their lips as if she were attempting to eat a ripe and delicious fruit.

_I know nothing can happen to me when you're here, Seto._

She clung to him firmly, and did not prevent her sweet thrill from being heard as she rubbed her skin against his chest.

_I love feeling you in me… it's… so… intense._

She rolled over.

Yet still her protector, he held her even more tightly, wanting to assure that nothing more happened to her.

He wasn't expecting her shivering to drive him mad, to make him feel the delight so well anchored beneath his skin again. He needed nothing but the heat and sweetness of her body against his. It was already more than sufficient to maintain his violent desire for her. A desire entirely shared and barely depleted.

Nothing could have told them how long the encounter lasted, but their two bodies remained locked together, one against the other, until both burst into orgasm.

But even in his seemingly infinite pleasure, Kaiba did not forget to hold her against him in such a manner as to not cause her any new pains. Both were trembling, struggling to regain their breath. But neither attempted to hide anything from the other.

She huddled more affectionately against him.

It was true, he was in the palm of her hands.

It was also true Kaiba had no intention of changing that.

Despite relishing in the thrill of the moment of perfect harmony between them, it was he that broke the silence.

"Did I hurt you?" he asked, trying desperately to still sound as if he had the upper hand.

_Tell me, Naomi.._

The one who could not supposedly be touched, even as an object of so much tenderness?

_You're so worried about me…_

"Oh, no," she murmured, raising her eyes. "Not compared to all the fun I had."

Kaiba's eyes softened again, and he kissed her lips.

_And you'll have so much more…_

_That, too, I promise you._

Quite delicately, he took her once more under the crook of his arms.

_If you wish the world, Naomi, ask and you shall receive…_

… … …

"I'm really sorry, Seto," Mokuba excused himself as he opened the door, "I'm sorry I – "

But he cut himself off immediately when he saw them both peaceful, a rosy tint to them as if the pair had just run a marathon and that, exhausted by the effort, they were now catching their breath. They were obviously not paying any sort of attention to his lousy excuses.

Even though he believed Seto would appear grouchy, he didn't. On the contrary, he was calm, relaxed, like he just had a full night's sleep. And he was in a good mood. It had been a long time since he had seen his brother seem so well.

Better. He seemed happy.

Mokuba's grinned slightly though he knew absolutely nothing about their excitement. He _had _become curious of several rhythmic beating noises… but it wasn't happening anymore anyway.

… … …

"Satisfied?" asked Kaiba, quite content that his men had performed so well.

Naomi had inspected all of the gifts, making sure nothing was missing and that everything was running smoothly.

"Thank you very much, Se – I mean, Mr. Kaiba," she announced.

He was a tad annoyed that she hadn't used his first name. It was such divine music to hear.

"Everything's ready," she said. "I must thank them."

"Later," he snapped in exasperation of her scruples. "It's time for you to go."

_And if we went back up to my room? There's always time for-_

But he silenced the thought and lightly berated himself.

Before she even had the time to turn around, Kaiba had given her coat to her, his eyes tearing down the length of her body as if they were still in bed.

The somewhat unhealthy thought still made him smile happily.

_I still have to talk to Mokuba. He can't barge in anymore like that._

He carefully led her by the arm to the waiting limousine, not permitting any of his men from intervening. He kept exclusive control of her, of her sole and unique attention.

"Drive carefully," he ordered the chauffeur.

… … …

Slowly, she began to slide out of the backseat door, still helped, somewhat awkwardly, by Kaiba, whose difficulty came in trying not to consider all the _what-if_s.

Seeing the wheelchair Roland placed in front of her, she couldn't help but mark her repugnance with a sour grimace.

"Is this really necessary?"

But she was well obligated to sit in it, mostly by Kaiba's polarizing stare, and it was he who pushed her into the mall.

"This is where I leave you, Mr. Kaiba," she said.

_Grrr… Seto! Not 'Mr. Kaiba'! _

But he restrained himself from making the commentary out loud, given the number of his guards that encircled them.

"Why?"

But he knew that she would probably end up buying something for him.

He thus appeared very reticent despite all of the confidence he placed in Roland. He leaned in towards Naomi.

"I don't want anything."

_Nothing you can buy, Naomi. I just want you._

"Even so," she exclaimed in a manner that told him she was expecting that he would try to tag along, "this is still where we're on our way."

He felt like grumbling a response but just decided to be defeated.

"She will not leave this wheelchair. Under any circumstances!" he ordered Roland, who bowed respectfully in response.

"No, sir. Don't worry, sir."

Then he walked off with her and two other guards.

… … …

"A watch? Nah, he's gotta have a dozen of them. Oh! A tie… he doesn't seem like a tie type of guy. Clothes? No…"

Naomi couldn't help thinking out loud sometimes.

"Well, I guess he already has everything he needs. But what should I get him?"

_He's so annoying like that!_

"Something wrong, ma'am?" Roland asked her, causing her to remember his existence.

_But what doesn't he already have?_

"Stop for just a minute, please," she nearly shouted.

_Kaiba! That guy drives me up the effing wall!_

She was suddenly overtaken with vertigo at the random thought of feeling his body against hers again.

_Completely._

"Can I help you, ma'am?" Roland asked again as he leaned towards her, having some difficulty in restraining himself from laughing.

"No thanks," she sighed, disappointed. "Oh, yeah, wait, Roland!"

She forgot her franticness and became calm quite automatically once more, filled with a practically legendary grace.

"I would like to thank you, Roland."

He froze in place, obviously shocked at the remark.

"Yes," she said again, "I have to thank you, you and the others…. for what you're doing for me."

The men, Roland included, almost blushed at the mere thought that they had been recognized. Roland then crouched in front of her.

"You mustn't – "

But Naomi spoke over top of him.

"Yes, I know. You're going to tell me you're just doing your job. But I still want to thank you for proving to me your kindness and your patience. You weren't obligated."

"It is an ultimate honor, and brings me great happiness, to serve you, ma'am."

He was about to add that he was bitterly regretful to have not been more useful in arriving sooner to secure her safety after her savage attack, but he stopped himself, not wishing to revive painful memories.

"And don't worry, ma'am. The doors won't close until you've finished your shopping."

"Thank you so much."

"Shall we go on?"

Roland pushed the wheelchair past the store windows to leave Naomi the time to inspect the merchandise.

Suddenly, she seemed to be fascinated by a statue made out of transparent glass.

"Wait!" she snapped brusquely.

When they got nearer, she could make out the magnificent craftsmanship. It was a dragon around two feet long, finely carved. She could have sworn it was made of crystal.

"Do you think he'd – ?"

"Definitely, ma'am," Roland interrupted. "That's a great choice."

"What?"

Naomi was stupefied, not quite understanding what he meant.

"Of course you knew that that dragon happens to be Mr. Kaiba's fetish."

"Dragon…?" she stammered, certain she had definitely missed something very important somewhere.

"Yes, ma'am. The Blue Eyes White Dragon. Mr. Kaiba is a champion duelist."

_Oh my god…_

An unforgettable memory blazed its way to the forefront of her mind. She hadn't paid it any heed until that moment: that of the young orphan, Jeremy, she had been talking to one day and, even though he hadn't had one, had sworn to her with pride that he would love to possess such a dragon in his Duel Monsters deck. One day, maybe.

And also… his racecar was an effigy of a white dragon.

"He was speaking about Kaiba's dragon," she murmured quietly, stunned by the sudden revelation.

_How could I have….? I have to seem so stupid right now…_

"Ma'am?" Roland asked, sincerely worried, and realizing that she had been indeed totally ignorant.

But now everything was lucid in Naomi's spirit.

Lots of children played that game. But seeing as she wasn't too interested in it herself, she hadn't ever noticed… until then.

"Yeah… err… could you take it, Roland, please?"

… … …

With Roland's help, she bought Mokuba's presents and even had a quite amiable thought for Marie, whose kindness hadn't escaped her.

"Finished, ma'am?" Roland questioned, who had grown to quite like his 'passenger.'

"Err… no. Take me to that men's store over there."

Something had definitely grabbed her attention. It was an ebony-black necktie with small, pretty white dragon motifs sprinkled across it. It was quite charming.

"Roland, how many guards are there?"

"What?"

She repeated her question.

"There's five of us at the Kaiba mansion and two others who work – "

He certainly wasn't about to tell her their job involved tyrannizing Mokuba's school bully, so he deliberately lied.

" – at KaibaCorp but who are equally as important to Mr. Kaiba's security."

"Okay. Ma'am?" she asked of the saleswoman who had been shadowing the abnormal, heavily damaged client around the store. "I want seven of these, individually boxed."

"Oh?" Roland exclaimed. "You don't need to!"

But his protests were in vain.

"Listen, Roland," she said politely, "I'm sorry that I didn't already know you better so that I could offer to buy you something that you probably would have liked more. Really, I'm sorry about that. But I insist that I get you _something._"

"You are doing us a great honor, ma'am," he said as he bowed again.

When she went to pull out her credit card, it was Roland once more who tried to prevent her from using it.

"Mr. Kaiba also gave me orders that instructed me to – "

Naomi shook her head violently.

"Oh, no. Don't you dare."

"But Mr. – "

"I don't need Kaiba's permission to pay for what I buy."

So Roland had to restrain himself. She seemed to him to be just as stubborn as Kaiba, and thus he wouldn't run the risk of displeasing her. Moreover, she was demonstrating total independence, which must have been more than necessary in the state where she found herself a the moment.

Wisely, he minded his own business and decided to leave her to quarrel about it with Kaiba.

The saleswoman had just finished packing up her things when Kaiba appeared at the front of the store.

"Everything went well?" he asked immediately as he went to take Roland's place behind Naomi.

"Yes, sir," Roland responded. "She was really very… charming."

Kaiba easily recognized the admiring tone that came through in Roland's voice, and gave him a look of suspicion.

But Roland looked away, preferring to glance down as his cheeks reddened briefly.

… … …

Kaiba was very surprised at her combativeness; she was nowhere close to seeming fatigued. They were about halfway through dinner when she fell solidly asleep on her plate without warning.

Amiably, and yet somewhat regrettably, he carried her up to the bed, despite knowing full well that tomorrow would bring her a vexing series of trials.

He took the opportunity to double-check everything, one last time.

"Everything's ready, sir," Roland reassured him.

"Good."

Several hours later, having already told Mokuba about the news, he clambered up back to his room, where his eyes fell on the woman sleeping soundly inside.

The idea to wake her and continue with their revelry hadn't escaped him, but he decided not to pursue it.

He worked for several more hours, then lay down noiselessly and without causing her to stir. He contemplated her for several minutes, then fell asleep himself.

… … …

_He's so handsome…and…he's right there._

_ Tell me… are you hiding something from me, Seto?_

_ Like… if I woke up, would you be completely different?_

She stopped her fingers from straightening some hair that had fallen over Kaiba's eyes as he slept.

_Everyone says you're hard, cruel, menacing… but… that's not what you show me. Are they wrong? Or is it just me that makes you act like…?_

"What are you doing?"

Naomi flinched, caught in the act, as Kaiba's eyes opened and stared directly at her, like he had been watching her previously while his eyelids had been shut.

"Were you watching me?"

She sputtered, struggling to form words.

"N-no, of course n-not, I-I w-was just falling back to s-sleep…"

Kaiba seemed quite amused.

"You lie very badly, Naomi."

_It's a skill I don't want you to learn._

She began to quiver again as he let his fingers glide from her shoulder to her neck, reawakening the intermittent desire she held for him again.

After a long while they found themselves stuck together again, furiously starving for the other, their desire having eclipsed their thoughts of anything else. Naomi was the only one of the pair who showed any signs of reticence through the pleasure that otherwise consumed her.

"Don't be scared," he murmured in her ear before chewing softly on the skin of her neck.

_Not now, not ever._

She was somewhat surprised about the comment, which had come between two feverish kisses. But she knew: he couldn't be any more sincere. She felt it was from the heart.

_It's crazy… how could he know?_

A tender smile still played upon her lips, well hidden in shadow from Kaiba's view.

_ Ah, fuck it. _

_

* * *

_Yeah, a bit more lovey-dovey, if that term is strictly appropriate, here. Meh well, what's a French romance story to have? _;)  
_


	12. Chapter 12

This only took me like two months... *cough* Should speed up starting late next month! Sorry, medical fatigue sucks.

* * *

**Appearances**

_by Melzart_

**. . . **

Chapter 12

_In the Kingdom of the Little Imps _

Kaiba laughed inside slightly as he watched Naomi butter up her face by applying more makeup than usual; she looked waxen, so white it undeniably contrasted with her natural beauty. He understood: she was trying her hardest to cover up the bruising, which was still quite visible, while simultaneously avoiding piquing the children's interest too highly and thus avoid indiscreet questions and more than likely embarrassing ones, too.

He asked himself again why he had deigned go so low, seeing as it would be very difficult for him to return to a place like where he and Mokuba had spent so many difficult moments in their childhood. The response was that he had promised. To be there. For her.

And it's what he was preparing for psychologically, persuaded that all the rugrats would rush towards them in an event he would have preferred less than waking up trapped in a shopping mall.

Due to his plain height he had never had trouble warding off potential annoyances. Only, with kids involved, he knew that the task could prove more difficult. He was aware that being tall was not necessarily synonymous with being imposing.

On the other hand Mokuba didn't seem to share Kaiba's reticence; on the contrary, he seemed even enthusiastic about the idea, conscious that for years, they had spent Christmas together as brothers and that they would be together for hours. Even though Seto wasn't typically accustomed to such traditional celebrations.

This year could be strikingly different with the particular guest in the house.

Naomi spent well over an hour with her creams and her foundation; and even though most of the wounds now seemed for the most part assimilated into her skin, they were still oh-so-slightly seeable. Which drove her crazy.

She had even dreamt, for a short instant, that she would have to make an exception this year because the children would pick them out despite all of her attempts for them not to do so.

And the deception was all over her face. It was frighteningly apparent when she looked at herself in the mirror.

The curmudgeonly look she gave off didn't escape Kaiba, whose head bent slightly as to her avoid her gaze.

What could he do or say that would reassure her completely?

Of course gestures and actions would change _his_ behavior, as he knew – he still wasn't accustomed to all the humanity he had been demonstrating. But if he could share some with her, he still probably wouldn't be completely at ease, despite all the well-wishes. But it wasn't bad to try. He had already made lots of exceptions to his rules, having already broken a half-dozen of them just for her sake. And he was certain he was to break even more. But in the meantime he wouldn't plan on doing so, uncertain of himself and principally of what Naomi would do.

Then, above all, he cursed with his entire being the state of dependence that she found herself in thanks to her deplorable 'accident'. Like how she looks at herself through the eyes of others instead of her own; if not, she would never be treating herself so harshly. She was everything but weak – she was magnificent.

Approaching her softly, he decided to interrupt her.

"It's almost time, Naomi."

_You're making a mountain out of a molehill, I promise._

She hesitated for another moment, locked in front of the image reflected back in that fucking mirror. She could feel Kaiba's eyes on her; he wasn't about to move. She didn't dare raise hers to meet them directly.

_Be brave… be brave._

She was oppressed by a starving worry.

_I'm here, Naomi… you're not all alone._

He affectionately placed his hand on her shoulder.

In an almost superhuman effort, Naomi sighed heavily and placed her hairbrush on the counter. She could sense Kaiba's living solicitude which, outside of his customary polar appearances, stayed loyal to her well-being.

But there was no question that she could not show the slightest weakness at this particular event. If she were to like the fact he was with her, understanding he was like a wall around her, she also understood that under normal circumstances he wouldn't be there, just like he was never there beforehand. What she had to do she had to do alone.

So she hoped he would understand. It wasn't like he was a stranger.

Noiselessly, she got up and Kaiba understood immediately that she was in no need of anyone's help. It was probably to be so throughout the evening. And he was worried to know that she, just as fragile and driven by pride both good and bad, was depriving herself of assistance.

"Please, Marie," she said, nodding her head in respect to Kaiba's maid.

She was petrified, uncertain of her boss' reaction if she were to accept Naomi's gift that she was holding out to her; but she was also very moved by the simple but greatly sincere gesture.

But Naomi, despite Kaiba's distant expression as he focused away from the scene, insisted again, this time directly in front of him.

"It isn't anything given the kindness and care you've shown to me while I've been here."

Marie shuddered as she moved her hands maladroitly towards Naomi's present.

She seemed doubtlessly expectant of her master's approbation and became embarrassed by her own inaction.

Naomi, quite irritated, let her eyes drift over to glare directly at Kaiba who, upon meeting her eyes, finally decided to react.

"Accept it, Marie. It's a gift."

_And you certainly deserve it._

But the last phrase never left Kaiba's lips, who believed her had already spoken enough.

"Ma'am… sir…" she breathed, reassured by their combined magnanimousness.

In a spontaneous movement she bowed her head numerous times in thanks, too emotional to know exactly how to respond. It seemed to Kaiba that a simple 'thank you' seemed too little, given the honor they had seemingly bestowed.

Every year, for Christmas, Kaiba played down the holiday while simultaneously not completely ignoring it. But with a slip of the mind, and of time more accurately, he had a larger tendency to give a supplementary check to his closest employees such as Marie and his bodyguards. He had not made an exception this year; he had doubled his habitual pay raise given the turbulence of recent events. He concluded he came off as sufficiently generous.

Naomi showed him, once more, that not everything is an eternal question of money. Even Sadi had taught him that lesson, but he couldn't have hoped to change him in just a few short weeks. He could hardly remember it. But he knew, even if just for pleasure, he had to clamber out of his rabbit-hole. He barely knew what a 'simple thought' comprised of in terms of gift-giving.

As for the rest, he began to slowly unwind from the angry impulses that controlled him, even though he would refuse the right of anyone to see it.

"Thank you, ma'am. Thank you very much."

Kaiba wasn't too surprised when he saw Naomi warmly hug Marie. Surely she must hold her in such high esteem.

Wisely, then, he decided to not intermingle with the scene.

"Have a great holiday with your family," Naomi wished her once more before watching her disappear out the door.

She must have felt Kaiba's unease vis-à-vis the situation; felt that he had turned into marble. But if she understood that he didn't share her ways to appear warm towards others and Mokuba, she should be grateful to have not interfered or sought to aggravate him to act against his will.

Deep inside, she was convinced: Kaiba had never learned to communicate with others. He knew nothing of warmness or human outpourings. She even believed that in the most profound sector of his interior, maybe he regretted it, in his own way.

And should it not just be in spirit, she could never blame him.

. . . . . . . . .

He kindly accompanied her, keeping within an inch of her up to the limousine, where he then quite gallantly gave her his coat.

Outside, a pretty covering of snow was strewn over the city. It was so beautiful, so sweet.

They arrived at the limousine, where Mokuba was already waiting for them. He had left everything up to his brother.

Roland respectfully opened the door of the limo after having bowed before them, particularly for Naomi, who smiled as soon as she gained the opportunity to spy her gift in plain sight, in the middle of each of the suits worn by the surrounding bodyguards.

She smiled once more, which greatly pleased Kaiba, who didn't quite grasp the significance yet. He soon saw the object of her pleasure; around the neck of each of his men hung a quite particular tie, upon which were printed white dragons.

_Naomi! She knew… but how? How did she learn?_

He stood there, astounded, quickly bringing a severe eye in turn upon each of them.

He should naturally speak about this with Roland. Yet in the meantime, unsure if he should be ecstatic or offended by the lack of discipline – small at that – he decided to ignore it for the moment to uniquely focus upon the young woman who was waiting for him in the back seat of the limousine.

Without saying a word, he sat down, thrusting his glance out the window to stare at the new neckties.

He wanted to burst out laughing. It certainly wasn't the most shocking thing to ever happen to him. And though he didn't normally appreciate it, it seemed to Naomi that he was in a good enough mood to let it go.

"Is it annoying?"

He stirred from his reverie.

"What?" he asked loudly.

But the smile he saw proved that she had perfectly followed the course of his thoughts.

"I couldn't resist when I saw them at the mall," she told him. "I hope it doesn't bother you."

These knickknacks, bother him? Ha! On a normal day, possibly. But because the charming courtesy was hers… how could he get mad over it? Besides, it wasn't as if she had forced them to wear them. They were simply gifts, just as she had done to Marie.

"No," he admitted, concealing the joy he was feeling.

Finally, he had been persuaded: she was beginning to uncover what was behind Seto Kaiba. Maybe she even recognized in him the great duelist he had always been. He would have to have a discussion with her about that when the moment was right.

. . . . . . . . .

The room was splendid, dressed up in decorations equally as sumptuous and gorgeous as any of the best. Nothing seemed to be lacking from the enchanting décor: not even the multitude of plates and delicacies spread over all of the tables where the children were now swarming

_What the…_

Naomi was as astounded as she was moved.

Obviously one of the donors must have been far more magnanimous than usual. She had never seen, with her own eyes for three years, such an abundance in this orphanage.

Everywhere, long strings of sparkling lights and golden wreaths of garland hung from the walls and the ceiling. But what caught her attention, as soon as she walked in, was the majesty of the even more richly decorated, enormous multicolored pine tree; from its base stretched hundreds, maybe even _thousands _of presents, it seemed to her.

All of this was truly an extraordinary feat.

Answers to all of her questions would doubtlessly come later. At the moment, it didn't matter who nor how any of this could have happened because of the happiness of these dear children was an unprecedented success.

Then voices suddenly flooded the room, leaving what seemed to her to be a stupefying silence giving way to a sudden accosting of shrieks.

"Naomi!"

The majority of the little faces had raised their eyes towards the new arrival, also clambering onto chairs to throw themselves at her; they had first come in little groups, then, their excitement building, they began to have the energy of real crowd, ready to stampede right over her.

_Grrr…_

Seto soon heard the screams and pitter-patters of tiny running feet. Which greatly alarmed him.

He had barely been away from her for a few seconds – the time for him to strip himself of his coat near the front door – but from one moment to the next, she was surrounded, her personal space completely invaded by the little creatures who knew nothing of the state she was in. They couldn't guess that they risked injuring her, though they meant well.

So, running, he didn't think – still – about anything other than protecting her, and ran even faster, before finding himself behind her, skirting around her, and then was in front of her, defensively.

Upon seeing him, the children instantaneously froze, stopping their crazed dancing and their cries of enthusiasm.

In their eyes he could see shock mixed with fear. Then an immeasurable admiration lit them up like porch lights.

There were whispers after the silence passed.

"Mister Kaiba!" a young boy dared to cry out, as if unbelieving.

But Seto didn't display any immediate reaction other than shifting his arrogant glare between them all as if personally addressing each one for something they had done wrong. Naomi stayed behind him, and that was all that mattered to him.

Then the murmurs grew more insistent, before solidifying into percolating cries.

"Mister Kaiba! Mister Kaiba!"

The children were panicking, all desiring to capture the attention of the famous man.

Naomi stood dumbfounded; it wasn't that she was jealous by the sudden turn-around but she could never have guessed the monstrous effect that he would have on the children, principally on Jeremy, who was inching ever closer towards him.

"Mister Kaiba! Please… can we see the dragon?" he asked timidly.

"Yeah! Yeah! The dragon! The dragon! Mister Kaiba!" echoed the rest of the band.

This time, what Kaiba feared most happened: the children were no longer containing themselves, and began to race towards them once more.

More the protector than ever, he held his arm out behind him in an attempt to create a small barricade for Naomi's sake, hoping that the half-crazed swarm would not reach her.

_Grr… what little monsters, _he thought.

How was he ever going to be able to hold back such an enthusiastic clan of brats?

He was growing warm, he knew, and even though nothing seemed different about his faithfully constant state of coldness, large beaded drops were scintillating on his temples, as he was brutally fearful that Naomi would find herself in the heart of these "festivities".

Then the collective mind's opinion seemed to split: some became occupied with garnering Naomi's attention, others his own.

All that he could hear amidst the cacophony consisted of two very distinct phrases:

"Mister Kaiba! The dragon!"

"Naomi! Naomi!"

He felt it: he was fuming, on the verge of screaming to silence the mob, readying his voice as he knew the best way to get his point across: demand. Impose silence upon them, and force them to back away. That was when he felt something pull on the end of his very long coat*. Something insistent, which he hadn't previously felt during the melee. Something that made him shut his mouth before he thought he had even opened it.

_What? What is – _

Kaiba deigned to lower his eyes.

He didn't know how she could have dissimulated so well from his sight, or how she could have shoved a path through the hordes, but there she was. Very tiny – miniscule, even. A young girl, barely five years old, was pulling on his coattails.

Kaiba's eyebrows shot up; the little toy doll-like thing with almost jet-black hair and milky complexion was dressed up in a tiny dark red dress. Truly cute.

And what managed to surprise him even more – virtually overwhelming him at the same time – was a queer resemblance to Naomi's physical features. Of course, far younger. And, without showing it, Kaiba's heart melted at the sight of the adorable little thing.

"Naomi," she implored, now holding her arms out towards her. Her face shone brightly.

Naomi seemed to soften just as much for a long moment upon seeing the sweet child, whom she recognized without a problem and was truly excited to see again.

On his part, Kaiba effortlessly felt the strange emotional tie which seemed to unite them as if he rapidly noticed the emotion that troubled Naomi, without even having to turn around to consummate the idea.

"Molina," she sighed as she smiled, relieved that she was still part of the gang.

_Oh… no. I think… maybe… _Kaiba thought.

In effect, the little girl latched on to Kaiba's coat for balance as she continued to reach out for Naomi. It was clear that she undeniably wished to be held.

Kaiba awoke from his torpor, realizing the danger. He knew it: if he didn't act fast, she could be capable of anything to get closer towards her.

Thus, without sudden movement but not caring about the other children who were attempting to capture their attention, he bent down to take the child between his hands and held her lightly at a distance from him, arms nearly fully outstretched, scrutinizing her with a polar glare as if she were an odd trinket he didn't quite know how to handle.

_Seto, what are you doing? _Naomi thought, alarmed, at the unexpected maneuver.

Molina stayed there for a moment, suspended quite far above the ground, feet swaying in the emptiness and her body between Seto's hands who, secretly admiring, stayed silent to examine her for a short instant.

_Truly curious… this… little thing…_

But the little girl, absolutely non-impressed by the visitor, had eyes only for Naomi. She alone was at the center of her thoughts. And so she felt profoundly wounded to have not reached her, to be the prisoner – temporarily – of this strange man she didn't know.

"Naomi," she repeated, practically begging.

Naomi walked forward slowly, conscious that the child was far more terrified than anyone else. She had noticed a certain distress in Molina's eyes.

But Kaiba brought her softly towards him, knowing the effect he was certainly engendering on the child.

"Naomi can't hold you right now," he started to explain, trying to use more sweetness in manner and in voice.

But the strategy did not deliver the desired consequences.

_Oh, no, not _this_, _Seto thought as he watched the toddler's eyes fill with tears.

She was going to burst out sobbing at any moment. He definitely required an urgent plan of action. But what to do?

_Ugh. Women._

_Get over yourself, Kaiba. _

"But… if you want to stay in _my _arms…" he began again, trying to stay calm, "I'll take you with us, to our table, okay?"

The little girl seemed unsatisfied with the deal. She hesitated quite a while before responding or reacting.

Kaiba found himself needing to insist.

"Naomi will be there… of course," he said.

The teary-eyed face of the little girl looked for Naomi, who, affectionately taking her hand, gave her tacit acquiescence to Kaiba's demand.

He lamented the envy he saw in that glassy expression, and this bothered him greatly because this child, more than any other in the room, was considerably more privileged at the moment than they were. Only he had also equally understood that she was probably the one that Naomi's heart had elected above all of the others and he could not deny the veritable affection that seemed to unite them. Thus, he preferred the lesser of the two evils.

. . . . . . . . .

Molina had not changed her behavior one iota and stayed equally happy in her joyful humour, cheerfully sitting between them.

Still, Kaiba was looking out; even though he appeared to be far above the rest, as if ignoring them, he could not detach his attention from the small girl half glued to Naomi.

"Did someone hurt you, Naomi?" she asked, as she reached out, wanting to brush her cheek.

But Naomi dodged the little hand with a smile.

"It's nothing, Molina," she breathed gently, reassuring.

Kaiba tuned in to listen, greatly worried by the conversational twist this indiscretion could cause.

"Where were you? Why didn't you come for such a long time? Is it because of your boo-boos?" the toddler continued to say.

Naomi sighed softly, perfectly aware of the attention Kaiba was giving them now.

"Don't worry about it, Molina. I'm okay. I had a little…accident… but I'm doing very well now," she answered cautiously.

But the little girl did not seem at all satisfied.

"Oh! Are you sure you're okay? What type of accident? Did you get hurt? Tell me!"

She was dying of worry.

Naomi didn't truly know how to respond this time. She seemed to be looking for the right words to use.

Kaiba, persuaded that she would have difficulty with lying to the child, intervened.

"A car wreck," he admitted, not looking at her and hoping that this would satisfy her curiosity.

The child looked visibly shell-shocked.

"What? A car wreck?" she nearly screamed as she further scrutinized Naomi's bruised face.

"Yes… that's right," Naomi stumbled. "But I'm doing okay now, Molina."

She wasn't really happy with this mystery.

"And… was he there? Mister Kaiba? Did he help?"

Both Naomi and Kaiba shivered, each one being somewhat shaken from their thoughts by the question.

_No. It's my fault, Molina, _Seto mused as he plunged his icy glare into empty space, holding back his fists from pounding onto the table.

"Yeah," Naomi sniffed, ignoring Kaiba's imminently remorseful thoughts. "A lot," she insisted with a whisper.

Seto breathed out, despite himself.

"Oh, so, is he nice?" Molina asked again.

Naomi grinned slightly at the mention, nodding her head in approval.

A far-fetched idea appeared to then traverse the girl's mind because then, in a movement, hopping on her chair, she cackled joyously as her mouth – covered by her hands – approached Naomi's ear.

"And…. do you think he's handsome?" she whispered, taking great care to make sure he could not hear their words.

Although he was not very habituated, Kaiba chose to ignore the mostly odd attitude of young girls who seemingly loved to make mysteries.

Was he interested, even for a fraction of a second, about the subject of their discourse?

If he were, he never let it show, feigning total indifference.

But he could not ignore the cunning grin, the almost gleeful expression on Naomi's face as she wiggled in response to Molina's questions.

She opted foremost for honesty.

"Very," she breathed as she addressed a look at Kaiba, who didn't return the gaze right away.

Then she turned her head away, now embarrassed by the thorny subject matter.

Only Molina was really having fun between the two of them, gracefully causing the affective disorder that was gnawing on them both.

It's sometimes completely insane what could occur to a young mind of five. She proved the adage when she decided to become more discrete once more, this time with Kaiba himself.

As fast as lightning she was on his arm. He barely deigned look at her.

"Mr. Kaiba… is Naomi…pretty to you?"

"Molina!" Naomi chastised, desiring that she stop these little games which, she was sure, were not overly pleasing to Kaiba.

Seto froze, straight as a pole, at the question. Too many things were going through his head.

But the strangest of all was the indescribable joy he felt at the simple thought of that adorable woman which had entered one _soiree, _just like that, into his life.

Of course, he needn't answer to anybody. Especially some overly-spastic kid.

Yet…

"…yes…" he murmured, not looking at either one of the girls.

The little girl smiled, showing off all of her teeth.

Could it be that all the coldness and indifference served at nothing to camouflage some real humanity?

Unfortunately for him and Naomi, the child was far from complete with her interrogation.

"….and…. do you _like _her?"

Kaiba turned to stone, instantaneously, there on his chair.

"Molina!" Naomi reprimanded severely. "That's enough!"

But the girl insisted gravely, as if dead certain that she could pull from Kaiba all that she wished for.

_Ugh… when is she going to stop? Besides, why does she have to ask so many questions anyway? _

Seto didn't know anymore where or how he should position his feet. It appeared to him that the floor was falling away from his chair.

But she was not concerned at all with some inconvenience of his.

The tiny toddler remained alert for the slightest hint to appear on Kaiba's face, who remained stoic. Yet, she would have sworn that she had had the time to see what could have been just the most minute hint of a glimmer in his eyes. And it was far from being anger.

"So, do you like her or not?" she kept insisting.

There was no way to get around it if he didn't other than come off as dry and unpleasant, which Naomi surely would find distasteful.

"Yeah. A lot," Kaiba breathed, who almost regretted that the words had come out of his mouth, as inaudible to him as they might have seemed.

Now it was Naomi's turn to fidget in her seat. The bizarre confessions sufficiently unnerved her to keep silent.

Was it really possible that… now?

No. Probably he felt guilty again about what had happened and was looking for a way to get out in his own fashion. Or she at least thought so.

Maybe he really loved her after all. If not, why had he taken such care of her person and not dared to give the job to anybody else?

She preferred to act as if it meant nothing. Deep down, perhaps he had claimed this in the hope of shutting Molina up once and for all.

_Grr… why did I say that? Why? Ah! This girl is hopeless… she's-_

Seto didn't dare look at Naomi, and he felt her malaise that he had inadvertently just created.

Now she was indifferent, instead smiling tenderly at Mokuba, who was sitting on the other side of the table and was very much distracted in his attempt to shoo a swarm of children out of his personal space.

Molina appeared to steady suddenly when, for the first time since they had all been sitting at the table, she fell quiet. She even seemed grieved, the smile having been wiped away.

"What's wrong, Molina?" Naomi asked quickly.

The girl gave a long sigh. Her eyes were glazed with a certain sadness.

Even Kaiba was partially concerned about the sudden calm.

"Well… if you like him too, Naomi," she said, "does that mean you're going to get married?"

_Married?_

Naomi was truly taken aback by the simple idea which she had never considered up until then, never having previously envisaged it. It was not her destiny. And she had noticed a dark shiver run up Kaiba's body.

_What? _Seto had turned, filled with shock and stupefaction, towards the little girl. But once his eyes crossed Naomi's, he realized he'd rather run away that moment.

It was true that the question had never previously been asked before. And he wouldn't have known how to have asked, if he had come up with it. Then again he never would have thought of it, given everything that happened to them recently.

But above all he felt that the worst was yet to come; she hadn't stopped messing with Naomi's heart with her endless supply of questions. Which was a thousand times worse.

He also realized then that by "marriage", she also meant-

_No! Don't go any farther with this, Molina! Don't-!_

"Then, you'll have _kids_!..."

This time, in Kaiba's body a savage electric current seemed to scramble upward, though he doubted that his own body was reacting the most between the two of them. In a flash, hiding the anger he could unleash upon Molina at that precise instant, he glanced over to assess Naomi's reaction.

His eyes moved quickly towards hers, awaiting her response.

Molina was a cruelty without parallel. In perfect ignorance thereof, naturally.

Naomi's jaw was clenched, her breath cut off. She was trembling slightly.

When she finally felt herself being scrutinized by that polar, inquisitive stare, she seemed to come back to reality. She breathed inward with a bit of a struggle, visibly fighting to hold back tears which were nevertheless beginning to materialize in the corners of her eyes.

_Grrr…_

Seto did not remove his eyes from her.

"Excuse me," she breathed as she went to stand, somewhat weakly, from her chair.

Seto immediately shot an arm towards her to help her.

"No… thanks," she said, without looking at him. "I'm fine. Please, stay here with Molina."

_I don't need your help, Seto._

_Grrr… stop…. Naomi…_

She finally was standing completely. Kaiba remained on alert for the slightest hint of weakness in her step.

"Mokuba!" he ordered. "Look after Molina for a second, alright?"

His little brother raised his head. He had only heard certain snippets of conversation but certainly knew that something was going on. And it worried him slightly.

. . . . . . . . .

Quietly, Naomi finally arrived at the restroom, where she locked the door and left Kaiba on the threshold.

He was literally dying with worry, staring at the door as if he were willing himself to see inside.

_I'm here Naomi… don't reject me._

A weak sniffing noise indicated to him that she was crying.

Kaiba's fists curled and then came to rest, without a sound, upon the door.

_I know, Naomi. I know…_

He hated the fact that she was so far from his arms.

"Naomi," he mumbled, convinced she could hear him.

With some difficulty, she attempted to pull herself together again.

"I'm okay…. give me a few minutes. I'm just a little tired," she succeeded in babbling.

Kaiba was going insane, shaking his head from side to side and refusing to leave her for over a second. His heart also ached.

Softly, his fists melted away, letting his fingers glide affectionately across the door as if it were Naomi's skin.

_No. I'm not moving from this spot, Naomi._

_ But you can't understand, Seto. It hurts so much… you can't._

Naomi had several instances where she could barely contain herself. She felt Kaiba's presence on the other side of the door, and he obstinately was stuck there.

Painfully, she rose from the floor, putting her hand on her fist.

How could it be that he seemed to understand her so well, he who knew next to nothing about her and who strutted about seemingly only caring about himself?

What did he want? What was he waiting for to come out of her, exactly?

And what if Molina had caught on to that saucy game of theirs?

Many questions were storming around in her brain. But she remained firm in her opinion that this was neither the time nor the place to let herself get bogged down by them. The party was in full swing. This wasn't the moment to be sad. Thus she decided to forget everything and return to that table where that little girl and the other children of the orphanage were expecting her.

There wasn't that much time left – barely a few more hours, and everything would be over.

When she opened the door, Seto was hovering a few steps away, eagerly awaiting the moment.

"You don't have to follow me. It's not necessary," she breathed softly.

_Yes, I do._

Kaiba didn't respond to the formulaic commentary. He lacked the courage to admit he empathized with her pain. He'd rather betray himself before he did so. And it certainly was not the best time to tell her this.

So, like a good gentleman, he glided forward to hold her against him.

Words were not needed: he knew this. He even believed that sole fact that he was there took a weight off Naomi's shoulders, who let herself fall into him.

She was so fragile. Seto could even feel it as she leaned against him.

_I'm here, Naomi. Don't forget that._

How could he manage to know exactly what to do when she wanted him the least? Or, more importantly, at the moment where she needed him most?

"We can go back, if that's what you want," he murmured.

"No."

"Okay."

She sighed softly and let herself be led towards the main room by Seto, who never deviated from her by more than a millimeter.

He suspected that she was already exhausted by all the effort that the long evening demanded. And it was becoming painful to not know.

"Naomi… are you okay?" Molina demanded as soon as she had returned.

She truly seemed worried about Naomi's temporary absence.

"Yes… I'm fine, Molina. I'm just a little tired. Don't worry," she responded.

_It's me who's worried,_ Kaiba thought, beginning to feel as if the visit grow longer and longer. But he promised himself that he would continue to look after Naomi to the finest detail, so that nothing else would perturb her presence or tire her further.

. . . . . . . . .

A tad later, and even though they were surveying from afar, Kaiba acquiesced to the demand of the children who wanted to, with their own eyes, see the infamous Blue Eyes White Dragon summoned by its master.

Even though she was paying almost all of her attention to Molina, Naomi couldn't help but crinkle her eyebrows when she saw the strange animal appear smack in the middle of the room and did so even further when she noticed Seto's infatuation with ordering it around.

It seemed to be under his complete control – remarkably so. And she could feel the plain power of his presence emanating from his person. Maybe it was even that inner desire to command, and to be obeyed.

Seto, on his part, did not let Naomi out of the corner of his eye, despite the masquerade and the brilliant demonstration of only a fraction of his knowledge. He could feel, even from this distance, the particular tenderness which was established between a woman and a child. He of course felt excluded. And simultaneously more concerned than ever.

A little angel on his shoulder implored him to neither separate them nor interfere in their relationship.

So he stayed away for quite some time.

Of course, slipping entirely into the skin of Seto Kaiba was always what he did best. And he tasted with a pleasure and boundary-less pride the moment of triumph to be the object of such a spontaneous admiration of one who had come for the children without a second thought.

On the contrary to what he believed, from the beginning, he had always been happy to be a role model.

Purely egotistically, again. But this was the sole instant that he allowed himself to really _feel _like it, or so it seemed to him.

He had become the true center of attention during the evening. And he tried not to take too much pleasure out of it. At least Naomi could stay at peace without being attacked by those redoubtable creatures.

And then there were the thanks for an event on a scale so large it had never previously been seen at the orphanage.

The question of the presents did not exactly end with the director, Mrs. Kimoshi, who practically forced herself, it seemed, to walk up to Kaiba, who looked inquisitively at Naomi and found that she looked as if someone had nailed her under a boulder.

It appeared that she had lost herself in interminable speech patterns of giving thanks. But above all, she won the right to a glacial stare from Kaiba who hurried to push her away as if fearing for his life that his secret might be unveiled.

Visibly, it was too late because his good humor had transmogrified into a pronounced and lively irritation; particularly as he felt Naomi's gaze fall upon him, making him feel like the object of some odd variety of bullying. He knew she understood clearly why.

_Seto? Was it you who - ?_

The generous donation was thus traceable to him?

How could he dare to immerse himself in her private life to the point of outbidding her best intentions and charity? In whose name? And why?

Kaiba remained profoundly troubled because he had never wished for this action, purely from the heart just this once, to become some sort of conflict of interests with Naomi. Especially less so under the mere pretext he had done it because he had a sufficient amount of money.

Above all, he was repulsed by the idea that she would doubt his true intentions – that is, he feared from the beginning that she wouldn't believe that it would be a manner of holding her close. It had never been a question of blackmail; he wasn't about to abase himself to please her, even though that was first on his list, just so she could lose herself in recognition. Because he knew best that absolutely nothing whatsoever could keep Naomi from fleeing other than genuine affection.

He wasn't quite sure himself. He didn't know her feelings, even though he could more or less sense them each time his fingers came to rest upon her body. She couldn't lie, then – not more than he could have in a similar situation.

Only Naomi maybe wasn't one to appreciate such a gesture. Maybe it seemed to her, if she were to take it awry, to be purely interference into her personal life. Maybe she would believe that he was sufficiently rich enough to try to buy her out again, the first time being at the hospital when she had saved Mokuba and he had offered her, maladroitly in retrospect, a salary to watch over him. He remembered very well how disgusted she had been at the prospect.

Thus, however, was what he had been looking to avoid. And the poor woman had just betrayed him, without hardly knowing it.

Yes. From the deepest corner of his heart, he hoped that she had not committed the most grave error in her life.

Naomi had apparently cooled her ardors a tad. She appeared to be cloistered in a semi-silence which Kaiba absolutely disliked. Nothing about it was good. But something was visibly tormenting her.

She stayed the same once she came into contact with the children again and even Mokuba, whom she liked enormously. But she didn't dare look at Kaiba anymore.

The same questions were turning around and around in her mind.

Why hadn't he said anything?

It was true that he had waltzed into her life seemingly on a spare draft of wind. And unsatisfied with wrecking the path of her life like a hurricane, including shaking her up a bit in the process, he allowed himself also to add himself to the concerns of her person, her actions.

Just what was he looking to do? What were his intentions? Finally, was there any chance that all of this was compatible with disinterest?

What did she know, deep down, about Seto Kaiba? Simply everything he wished to expose to her.

On the other hand, no matter what his plan, it was the children who could profit and live this fantastic, magical moment of their lives thanks to him. How could she keep a grudge against him when she only dreamt of forgetting?

. . . . . . . . .

Naomi tenderly kissed Molina's forehead; the night was winding down and the child, still glued to her hip, had fallen asleep, probably overwhelmed by the memories she could choose to keep. But her eyes did not trail from her, taking care to not disturb the girl's soft slumber.

If she had been able, she would not have left her. If she had been able, she would have left that room with Molina in her arms.

Now, a very disagreeable sensation had ripped apart every fiber of her being. Naomi felt an unexplainable sadness invade the back of her throat; that of never again seeing the adorable little girl who she was so pained in leaving behind.

She hadn't noticed Seto's attention, but he had not missed any of the scene. He also felt the sadness, a certain bitterness upon seeing Naomi so heartbroken.

It was completely mad how he detested seeing her suffer.

"May I?"

Seto had stretched his arms towards the girl to take her, desiring himself to go carry her onto her bed; he was assured that it was what Naomi wished to do the most at present. So he forced himself to do her this pleasure.

When they arrived at the dormitory, there were already many children who were sound asleep. Others were well on their way. And between the two of them, there wasn't much time to say goodbye.

Naomi couldn't wrench her eyes off of the toddler. She was too weak.

Seto, withdrawn, curled his fists. Naomi was suffering. Terribly.

Tenderly, she caressed Molina's cheek, and gently let it go. Then, passing the waiting Kaiba, she murmured:

"There's an example of the danger of being too attached to people…. they always leave, one day or another."

_But you already know that, don't you, Seto? That's surely why you're as solitary as you are, too._

. . . . . . . . .

_What?_

They were the first words she had directed at him for hours. What did she mean exactly? Once again did she want to attempt to flee from him, distance herself from him, because she was fearful of becoming attached to him and then losing him, or was she simply shaken by the fatigue and pain she felt at the moment?

Kaiba's troubles weren't over.

He knew that nowhere in the world would Naomi be granted the right to happiness before the phantoms of her past would resurge again to haunt her.

However, at that precise instant, he thought he could see a gleam of hope driving her forward. Very thin; very minuscule. But he was going to try.

As he had predicted, she was morose the entire way back to the mansion, again battered by her thoughts, each one as torturous as the other. She seemed inaccessible, firmly anchored in an immutable silence. Silence which he deigned respect, despite the desire to energetically latch on to her and allow her to finally let all of those monsters escape from the broom cupboard of her memories.

But he had no right. He could do nothing but wait, hoping that time and maybe even the trust she would one day totally confide in him would become favorable to their bond.

She was almost out like a light, he knew. So Kaiba insisted that the present-picking be done the following morning. This made Mokuba quite depressed. But he well understood the situation, given the enormous effort Naomi had to put forth at the orphanage. He also felt it more prudent to wait. And he was nothing more than a kid… worse, while the world was sleeping, he had all the leisure he needed to rattle the presents in an attempt to determine their contents. This thought, mostly infantile, let a huge grin plaster itself onto his face.

Naomi somehow undressed, the wounds spouting as much from the inside as they were apparent on the outside.

She was done. Completely wrecked. There was nothing more to do than head to the bathroom to take off her make-up, which would be difficult given the thickness with which she had applied it. It might take her hours.

She therefore opted first for a good soap-down, then sprinkled on some fresh water to end the clean-up. It was more radical and not much more rapid than using make-up remover and buffer.

When she raised her head to the mirror, she staggered back a step, as if she didn't recognize the person that she saw. The bruising had reappeared despite her efforts.

Ugh. It was horrible how she could hate herself at times.

"You need help?"

Kaiba had deliberately came out of his slump. He loathed the hatred that she had endlessly crowned herself with ever since the accident.

She surprised herself when she sneered mockingly.

"You're not a magician, but you can make anything disappear."

But Kaiba didn't laugh.

On the contrary. He only took a heavy wound from the allusion.

Softly, taking the hairbrush up off the dresser, he went to tend to her.

His body, standing directly behind her, was now touching hers.

"If I were," he said, "I would."

_Everything for you, Naomi._

He didn't lie at that moment, however. If only he knew what would help peel back the layers of Naomi's psyche. He wouldn't find it easy.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

So they were there. He knew that they would somehow get around to talking about the evening's arrangements.

"You weren't supposed to know," Kaiba responded frankly. "It's personal. It's my business, Naomi."

"Your business?"

She was definitely offended by the words, although she was bending the original meaning.

"And if I hadn't tipped you off… would you have done it anyway?" she asked, on the verge of exploding.

"Maybe. Maybe not," he retorted, excessively desiring to avoid a useless quarrel. "What's done is done, Naomi."

She turned around to face him, sighing loudly.

"That's true. You're right," she admitted, too exhausted at any rate to get caught up in a dispute. "But I would have just liked to know, that's all."

Kaiba probed deeper into her thoughts.

"Are you really that mad about it?"

She lowered her head.

"All I know… is that thanks to you, they just had the most wonderful Christmas they've ever had, no matter what you actually wanted to have happen. And I could never blame you for that. You're right. It's none of my business."

With a single movement, she found herself nestling into him as his arms wrapped around her.

"It is your business, Naomi." He breathed. "I was a tad egotistic…"

She seemed concerned by the new subject matter.

"I thought," he began again, "that you would like it. But you didn't need to know. It wasn't my intention for you to learn about it."

She jumped a little.

_What?_

Seto kept silent, uncertain of Naomi's reaction.

"You did all that… for me?"

She was quite moved. Never had anyone given her such a beautiful gift. Without entirely giving up arms, she had no will to fight. Thus, partially paralyzed in her emotions, she preferred to avoid a prolonged conversation.

It was late, she was done.

So she detached herself from him and without entirely walking off without a second glance, she took his hand to lead him to the bed where he helped her clamber in, conscious of several sore spots where there were wounds without scars.

But he immersed himself in her body, with the greatest of delicacy.

Again, Naomi killed herself, too buckled down in her own thoughts. However, at no precise moment did she ever feel that she would want to forget everything just to feel the warmth and comfort of his arms.

They stayed there, tranquil, silent, clinging to each other. Although his desire for this woman was strong and he could not hide it, even under the covers, he preferred to feel the softness of the moment a thousand times to his ephemeral torrents of searing desire, as appreciated as they were.

Naomi smiled gently at this overflow of compassion. She of course felt Kaiba's primal desire, but refused to give it any thought.

"Thanks," she murmured. "As much for them as for me."

All of a sudden Kaiba drew her closer into his embrace.

_Tell me what you want, Naomi…_

* * *

*Didn't he just take it off before he walked in the room?


	13. Chapter 13

Here's Chapter 13 of Appearances! Yugioh belongs to Kazuki Takahashi, and the original story belongs to Melzart.

It's been nine days since my transplant and I've been recovering well enough to go home, and with my downtime came this. The new kidney is working perfectly! It should take around six to eight weeks... plenty of time to get some work done in the fanfiction department! I'm gonna have to learn this new sidebar system...

* * *

Chapter 13

_There's just some mornings… _

_Naomi! Don't let him- … no! Help me!_

The cry of terror became painfully lodged in Naomi's sensitive ears as she watched; powerless, a frightened little girl being led by the arms of man whose face she could not make out.

Then the horrific screams morphed into something unbearable, piercing.

An invisible force kept the young woman in place, and no sound could be elicited from her own mouth.

Kaiba was awoken by Naomi's extreme agitation as she murmured in her sleep:

"Moli…"

She was sweaty enough to appear to have just run a marathon.

_Grr… wake up, Naomi!_

From what he could suppose, she was dreaming, and despite his intentions there was nothing principally pleasant about it - like most other nights. Rarely did she find relief while asleep. So when she finally had a good night's rest, Kaiba was among the most satisfied of men.

He was about to help her awaken when, violently, she furiously shot up so her back was perfectly parallel to the wall, her eyes wide open as if she had just been ejected from some black and glacial Antarctic water and was finally breathing in the air she had been seeking.

Just as vividly, she put her hand on her fragile side; she hadn't stopped trembling. It seemed to him that it was as much pain as it was terror.

Kaiba believed he could topple over dead in his concern. He stayed there, frozen in place by the horrific sight.

"Naomi." He crinkled his eyebrows. "We have to talk, Naomi."

She recaptured her breath with some difficulty, suddenly realizing that Kaiba had missed none of her brutal awakening.

Which obliged her to rapidly pull herself together.

"Sorry… had a bad dream, I think…"

A great anger rippled through Kaiba. It wasn't because she was attempting to lie to him. Because although she desired to not alarm him by saying that everything was going swell, nothing was really 'swell' at all. He was furious at everything but her. Furious that she had become a victim and a prisoner to herself.

Nothing is more intolerable than to watch someone suffer and to sit back, powerless. Worse – she refused to confide in him, to open herself up to him, not 'abasing' herself to any exterior aid whatsoever.

What could he do about it?

He even doubted for a short instant that he had enough courage and patience to endure it all.

"A nightmare?" he asked, holding her arm to help her lower herself back down onto the pillows.

_Why don't you talk to me about it, Naomi? I'm here. Tell me._

"Yeah. A nasty one at that. I'm good now," she breathed, perfectly aware of his preoccupation with her well-being and his will to probe into her worries.

With one blithe move, she wiped the sweat off of her brow with her wrist. It hadn't yet stopped forming on her skin.

Without another word, Kaiba got up hurriedly to rush to the bathroom, and came back with a towel.

"Your sides okay?"

"Err… yeah. They're fine."

"Just a nightmare?" he insisted gravely.

Everything about the intonation told her he believed absolutely none of it.

Moreover, his eyes seemed more inquisitive than ever.

"Yes…" she repeated. "I probably caught a bit of a cold yesterday evening… that's all."

_You really don't know how to lie, Naomi._

This thought almost made Kaiba smile, there in the midst of finding the situation deplorable.

Then again, she was still fighting to stop the tremors, fighting to do anything to hide from him her worry and the remorse which plagued her even though she had learned Kaiba had to be the most perspicacious being that there was; he had a gift, a hither-to unheard of talent to read people with his piercing gaze.

She also guessed that attempting to be cunning wouldn't fly with him either. But as always, she preferred to avoid the subject.

"You should rest for a couple more minutes," he said, his current solicitude seemingly impermeable.

_Me? Rest? Seto… there are so many things…_

That horrid premonition about yesterday, concerning Molina, hadn't left her, even in sleep. It had become so oppressing.

The disagreeable feeling that she would never see her again, that she would be separated from her forever more because it was completely beyond her capabilities to do anything about the matter.

She was convinced: the little girl was slipping through her fingers.

However, hadn't she known that this day would come, some day or another? That it would wound both of them equally?

She again realized, now more harshly, her own egotism; she had burdened her with part of her motherly instinct without truly realizing that child would probably foot the bill. What if Molina was only waiting for her clemency, and had all this time; was firmly hanging on the belief that this woman would be there to take her into her arms, ready to take her from that despicable house which cruelly lacked the warmth of a home?

_I'm a monster. A real monster… and she's the one who'll pay the price._

Naomi hadn't picked up a single word that had come out of Seto – he was fiercely busy preoccupying himself with her well-being. He bitterly loathed the fact that she was so inaccessible, that she was escaping from him again.

"Naomi!" he barked dryly.

He was sitting on the bed, and in the midst of quite the insane gesture.

For a very short second he believed he might have lost control. For an instant, he had to perhaps yank her by the arm and drag her down the stairs, as if shaking an apple tree to drop all of the rotten fruit still on its branches. Yes, for a fraction of a second, Seto Kaiba was afraid of his own actions.

_Grrr… stop destroying yourself!_

The tone he had employed brought her back to reality.

"Er, what?"

But Seto's face now showed no signs of any sort of anger. On the contrary; it had again softened.

"I was saying that you should rest for a couple more minutes." Naomi shook slightly, a long, unpleasant shiver slithering down her back.

"Oh… er… yeah. Rest a bit longer…"

Kaiba noted with certitude that deep in Naomi's eyes lay panic and disarray. She appeared to be calming, but he was no moron and sensed her agitation perfectly well.

_He's gotta think I'm out of my mind._

That's why she chose to choke down her emotions and to offer him a half-smile that was begging to appear reassuring.

"You're right. I should sleep some more."

_Grr… stop lying to me Naomi! It's starting to get on my nerves._

"Are you sure you're okay?"

_Ugh! Stop taking me for a little kid, Seto! I hate that._

Any more and she might have slapped him across the face. But the worry that eagerly manifested itself with him stopped her. She was distraught.

_No. I'm not okay, Seto… I'm not okay at all!_

But, frankly, these words did not happen to be the ones that fled past Naomi's lips.

"Yes, thank you."

Kaiba rose. He could easily feel her distress, as if he were part of her, and he was sure he could even if he were on the other side of the Earth.

"I'm going to the kitchen, you want something to drink?"

_Yes, that's right… leave me alone._

"Just some water, thanks."

Though he was not exactly a roisterer, he still regretted not being able to celebrate this Christmas matinee in a more agreeable fashion.

He knew it well, inside; this evening at the orphanage would not prove to be a sinecure. He wouldn't have even needed to bet on that.

Hadn't he been surprised to learn that she frequented the establishment regularly, before he even knew her, and that she cried upon leaving, maybe every single time she did so?

No. He wasn't a fool. Naomi was forcing herself to suffer, a bulimic before a buffet. Every night, after having eaten to satisfaction, she gathered herself together in some immutable silence to vomit up all of her grief.

The scene was not too difficult to imagine. Only this time, no tear formed upon her cheeks. Other torments, just as nasty, had bubbled up in their place.

Seto Kaiba detested the fact that he couldn't control everything.

But why had he gone through so much hogwash for a woman who hadn't even been part of his existence several weeks ago? A woman who had seen nothing, done nothing, or known nothing of the meanderings of his own life? A woman who apparently resembled so many others, those he disdainfully pushed aside without so much as a glance?

Because he had debts to pay, and also because the situation interested him - he had never, until that point, taken any particular pleasure in being approached by a member of the opposite sex.

In the end, wasn't he allowed to be occupied with thousands of other things before he hung himself, almost in misery, over the torturous morals of someone who never should have meant anything to him?

He was trapped in this sort of straitjacket, now completely incapable of fleeing despite his logic and his power. Everything seemed to call to her. With her in the picture, everything made sense.

Yes. Seto Kaiba was angry. Furious that he didn't know how to free himself from his own trap. Furious that he was unable to tame Naomi with the same victorious feelings that he had. Furious that he was watching herself auto-destruct as if it were deserved.

Because he knew.

He knew first of all that he had to make her do something. If not, sooner or later he would lose her, as she had lost herself.

… … …

As he walked down the stairs, he sighed loudly.

He was beginning to construct an almost diabolical plan, especially if he went completely against Naomi's will. But he was going to risk it. It was the only chance he had to offer himself up to aid her. The only one, maybe, too, of getting her back.

… … …

Naomi also sighed heavily as soon as Kaiba turned on his heels.

Why could she not taste the tranquility offered from bed that was so soft, so comfortable, the only tranquility she had felt for years if not for the first time in her life?

Was he too nice, so imbued with a genuine warmth that it was melting the ice which had lived in him for so long?

Didn't she finally have her chance to enjoy the arms of a man who seemed to desire to open them up to her over and over? Finally, a man with no seeming second thoughts, nothing to ask of her?

Hadn't he even personally admitted, last night, that he liked her and that he would bestow upon her the greatest of her desires?

Everything seemed so easy with Seto. Everything.

But it all felt so unrealistic in the deepest fathoms of her soul. Everything seemed _too _nice. Too convenient. But above all… she didn't deserve any of it.

The weight of her raw conscience insisted on re-making all sections of the fortress of her heart that Seto tried to beat down. Nothing was working because she never let anybody inside its walls. Not even him, entirely.

Anyone who risked it became the enemy of her, the living mausoleum.

She knew nothing other than the fight.

But with a force unequal to that of Seto Kaiba, she only saw his greeting as he tried to run.

Sooner or later, she'd have to leave. Even against her will. Even without permission.

_That's the danger of attaching yourself to someone… they get up and leave._

And she was right. Seto Kaiba understood it and had always known better than anybody else. It wasn't for nothing that he had stayed clamped to her more firmly than an oyster shell. It wasn't for nothing that he had never yet let anyone else approach her.

… … …

He had always feared that she was rejecting him, that she wasn't accepting him as he was. Afraid of being abandoned like he had by his parents. Of course he wasn't without knowing that this was how he had wanted his life to be, and that his parents were not responsible for a nasty turn of events or the futures of their children.

But Kaiba had always also feared being used, then thrown away into the past like some filthy dish rag.

He was worth more than that. He had fought his entire life to prove that.

Except for Mokuba, he was alone. Entirely, totally alone.

It was thus that for a long period of time, anybody who approached too close to him automatically became his enemy, ready to burst his existential and territorial bubble.

Kaiba had never given that liberty to anyone.

Except Naomi. The only one. Uniquely.

The only consolation that he found in that at the moment was that Naomi, given the weakness that she was still floundering in, stayed 'beneath the brow' and prevented her from acting to her leisure. For the moment.

But later – and this is what worried him – what would she do?

Mechanically he poured a glass of milk for himself and then downed the entire glass in one swallow. Then he got a glass of water.

The house was empty. Only Mokuba, except for them. He didn't seem to be up yet due to his absence on the ground floor.

He was about to walk across the entrance hall when a strange noise captured his attention; it had come from upstairs.

_Maybe Mokuba's up after all_, he thought with a smile.

He was going to wish him a merry Christmas.

He soon found himself on the top of the stairs, but suddenly doubted his original suspicion when he found his brother still asleep, the door to his bedroom still closed, just like his own.

_The sound came from his own room._

In a flash he was there, and silently opened the door.

The bed was empty. Naomi was gone.

_…no. _

Even more rapidly he became aware of the exact nature of the sound he had heard as he neared the bathroom.

What he had so clearly heard was the sound of water from the showerhead striking the basin. A rush of panic surged through him as he pushed open the door, fearing the worst.

_Grr… so bull-headed…_

Naomi's silhouette appeared beyond the shower's glass door.

_She's escaping me… already._

Softly, without making noise and despite the fact he felt as if he could explode with rage, he placed down his glass, then advanced with delicate steps.

He rubbed his hand against the glass door.

For several moments, Kaiba had all the leisure in the world to observe Naomi's naked body; she hadn't yet noticed her unwelcome visitor.

The anger had now left, disarmed by the candor of this woman basking in his shower. To his relief, she seemed more or less okay without his help. That was certainly her goal because she had never told him anything. And that was exactly what frustrated him the most.

He hesitated another second or so before making the decision to invite himself in or to close the door again and walk away.

How could he want her to be so strong? Was it a part of her charm?

Against his well, he decided to discretely close the door again before she noticed his presence.

"Seto," she breathed as she opened her eyes.

Of course she would notice him before he could move through the doorway.

"I'm okay. Thanks," she said again, aware of his worry.

_What if we recreate our first shower together?_

It was true that he hadn't hated that moment of intense intimacy – now his desire roared back again, and he moved closer to inspect her.

She could easily guess his thoughts, as he could tell by the look she gave him.

"I was almost done," she said as she moved slowly towards him. "But there are still a few little places…"

Affectionately, she brought his face towards hers.

"I can't really reach them… and…"

_Don't toy with me, Naomi._

"You wouldn't be…?" he murmured as their lips touched softly.

"Possibly," she whispered.

_I don't know why… but I can't… stop myself… crazy…_

Naomi blushed under her own desires.

In one rapid movement she yanked at the cord of his night-gown, revealing his torso.

Kaiba quickly threw it off.

He pretend to completely control the situation, as if the entire thing were dependent on his own free will.

"I thought you had to rest…"

She tenderly placed her still-steaming hands on Kaiba's cheeks.

"I haven't had any since you've been around, Seto."

Kaiba's gaze softened profoundly at the remark.

"As for those places," he asked, now completely conquered.

Evasively, Naomi showed him her fingertips.

"A little here. And here, and there…"

What was this sudden cattish attitude for?

Filled with a desire stronger than ever, Kaiba couldn't fight the siren cry of her tender skin.

Why did he have to play this game of questions and answers with her, at the precise time that his body abandoned itself to the sole ecstasy of his devouring passion?

Beaten before the battle, he had no weapon he could muster.

Seto recommenced their frolicking.

… … …

Naomi took a long moment, then, to contemplate him, as if wishing to burn into her brain the image of that beautiful face whence emanated that aura of power.

But she also had her plans. The first was to get up because she couldn't sleep.

She managed to leave the bed without disturbing the silence of the sheets, for better or for worse. Seto had not reacted, a sign that he was still sleeping deeply.

With much patience she managed to clothe herself in a pair of pajamas and one of Kaiba's blue robes.

At last she could even leave the room, as she was limping less and less. She had made admirable progress in a very small amount of time.

On tiptoe, she moved up to the stairway where, holding on to the railing with one hand, she cautiously placed her foot on the first stair.

"Wait!"

Mokuba, frightened at the speed at which she was progressing, panicked when he saw that his brother was not right up alongside her. He ran up and joined up with her on the other end of the corridor.

"Sh! Not so loud," she breathed as she placed a finger to her lips.

She began to respond to his questions.

"Your brother's still asleep."

"Oh."

He almost excused himself.

"So, I came right on time. I'll help you down."

"No. I don't want any help. I'll make it. But that's very kind of you, Mokuba."

He strongly doubted that she was ready to take on what she wanted to accomplish. If something were to happen now, Seto would kill him.

Thus he stood there, half terrified and half skeptical.

"Well… fine, if you insist," she said again. "Come down with me. But no holding my arms, okay?"

She happily found a resembling trait between the two brothers as he let out a light, unsatisfied groan.

"Don't you start. I'll say if anything's wrong, alright?"

He stayed there, sheepish and with his head slightly bent forward, as she went to put her other foot on the stair.

He gave up. He wasn't about to risk making her fall because he was too preoccupied with her safety.

The two finally managed to reach the bottom of the stairs after several minutes. It was a tad annoying, but she was finally regaining some autonomy, which certainly didn't displease him.

"What now?" Mokuba asked, certainly not willing to leave her side.

"The kitchen," she said with a half-laugh. "You eat yet?"

"No. That's where I was going…madame?" Mokuba bent down like a valet before guiding her forward.

As she remembered it, the kitchen was filled with plenty of sunlight. The décor outside had been overrun by a magnificent coat of snow.

"So!" he said loudly as he opened the refrigerator door. "What would you like? We have croissants, brioches…"*

"I had something else in mind," she admitted. "You wouldn't happen to want some sausage, ham, hash browns…. bacon… you see?"

The young man's face lit up at the mention of such foods.

"Well… I'm not very good at cooking," he babbled with a certain ashamedness.

"No need," she said. "I'll work a little bit. With your help, I'm sure we can- "

"But- " he grumbled.

"But what?"

She was quite persuasive.

"You couldn't think that Seto would appreciate seeing me work in the kitchen all alone without any help, could you?"

To tell the truth, she was mocking herself slightly. But as she found herself in Mokuba's presence, which happened quite rarely thus making any conversation between them equally as common, she insisted to the best of her ability.

"Fine, fine," he spluttered as his resistances fell. Anything for her to stop torturing him.

She hid a smile as she bent her head.

"So, this is how it'll work. You give me what I need, and I'll cook it. That way we'll really work as a team, okay?"

"As if I had a choice. Ugh, girls."

He inclined his head resignedly.

The two thus dove in to the quest of finding the necessary utensils – pots, plates – before practically jumping into the refrigerator.

"Let's see… eggs, ham, onions, cheese…"

… … …

Seto awoke on the very agreeable sensation of holding Naomi in his arms. It seemed to him that he had slept like an infant.

His eyes were slow to open, preferring to show him again the last moments of their fun. Nothing was better than her body against his. Nothing was more exalting, more pleasurable, then to hear her quivering lips next to his ear as she attempted to hide a most pure of pleasures.

The heat had remained quite well underneath the covers under which they had fallen asleep together.

Was she sleeping as well as he was?

He noticed quite quickly that she wasn't in his arms any longer and that she had even left the bed again.

"Ugh… this can't be happening."

He bonded roughly from the bed.

"What are you playing at, Naomi? Grr…"

Anxiousness at a maximum, he surprised himself at the speed of his reflection, his neurons firing rapidly between themselves. Had she profited from his inattention to run away and leave?

Where could she have gone on a Christmas morning? No. She couldn't be very far. She was, in fact, probably somewhere in the house, which was also the most likely option.

Calm came back to haunt him. She had to be somewhere.

But what if she fell and injured herself? If she were laying somewhere, suffering like a martyr?

_ Grr…_

In no time he threw on his robe, identical to the one that Naomi had borrowed, and left the bedroom like a typhoon, hurtling down the hallway, taking every fourth step.

When he approached the kitchen he heard two voices intermingling – those of Naomi and his brother.

He was about to walk in but stopped himself, consciousness of the panting that kept raking at his chest; he was not about to show them just how panicked he had become. So he chose to breathe in deeply, and take time to gather himself.

Mokuba was shocked at how quickly he warmed to acquiescing to her demands. Curiously, he even seemed to find a certain pleasure in aiding her as he ran around to pass her what she needed.

She had finally opted for an omelet.

Before he could bat an eye, sausages and potatoes were frying on the stove.

"Could you cut me some onions while I try to clean some of this up?"

"Er… okay," he said without certainty, but began to cut them with awkward slices.

"Mokuba… you need to clean them first."

"Oh yeah."

_I bet I look like a complete imbecile._

_ "_There you go. You're working like a real chef," she encouraged him. "Oh, and don't forget the coffee, that's very important."

_How does this thing work? _he thought as he blanched upon looking at the coffee machine.

He could find himself in front of a computer and he would never have had such anxiety. But on the culinary scene, his feet couldn't keep track of the beat.

"Start slow," he shouted more to himself than anyone as he overfilled the water glass.

This was anything but a sinecure. But he quickly wiped up the water that was on the counter.

"Oh, could you pass me the milk?" she asked again.

He went to perform the request with grace. In one single bound he rushed to the refrigerator to take out the pint of milk and was walking back towards her to give her the object when Seto, without warning, couldn't help but walk right into him. The milk fell to the floor, the liquid spilling on the two brothers in the process.

"Mokuba!" Seto reprimanded as he felt his pajama bottoms become completely soaked.

He felt insulted as the accident happened in front of Naomi's eyes, who then started cackling in laughter.

But he kept his severe gaze strictly on Mokuba.

"You could have said you were there," Naomi said gleefully.

She felt that he didn't appreciate her comment at all and that he could potentially start chewing out his younger brother. But she threw herself into the conversation to stop the injustice.

"Say I was there? Let me remind you that I am in _my _kitchen," he replied, emphasizing his words.

_What am I saying? She'll think I'm treating her like an intruder._

"_Your _kitchen?"

"Get out, Mokuba, I'll clean it up," he muttered as he turned to the counter to look for something to clean up the spill.

"What?" she interjected again. "_You _should get out, we're doing something here and we're not done yet."

_Grr… is this some coup d'etat or something? She's not obeying me… again!_

He was going to insist on the case of his little brother. But this time, she seemed more energetic, thwarting his plans.

"No. Mokuba's helping me cook. And you should go change, the milk smells. Go on, get!"

She deliberately chased him from his territory, with amusement maybe but especially with impudence, which have normally given Kaiba an ulcer as he would have never tolerated such behavior.

Mokuba didn't know quite what to do. He stood there between them, not knowing quite what he wanted. So he waited, waiting to see whom of the two would have the final say.

To his great astonishment, Kaiba seemed to calm himself. The enraged air that had previously been fizzing in the air around him vanished with the steps that he made for the doorway out of the kitchen. He was retreating.

"Wow… I never thought I would ever see that in my entire life," as he stopped himself from beaming with all of his teeth. "My ever-demanding brother… and without a fight, too!"

Kaiba stopped just behind the door. He looked back upon the situation. True, it was funny when he thought back upon it. He had been in quite the rage against his little brother. True, the anger had left him, the anger which, in reality, had been pointed more towards Naomi for having dared to move about without asking for his help beforehand than towards his brother, who wasn't responsible for the 'encounter'.

He quite indiscreetly stayed there for several seconds more, straining his ears.

Naomi was smiling, unlike the crestfallen Mokuba, who appeared to not have quite yet moved on, as if he were mentally noting that he would be facing Kaiba's wrath later.

"He'll get over it," she comforted him with a whisper.

"Yeah… but Seto seemed to be really angry," he babbled as he wiped the floor.

"None of it is your fault, Mokuba," she assured him. "Moreoever, I don't think he was mad at you. I think he's just scared that I'll hurt myself parading around the house, that's all."

She offered him her most tender grin, and managed to completely alleviate his fears.

It worked – the truth about his brother. He had been so obviously jealous of Naomi that he was in the worse of states. He also knew how much he was concerned about her wounds. He never would have seen his brother back down from the average person beforehand.

It was with the frankest of smiles that Kaiba left for his bedroom to put on a cleaner piece of clothing. Naomi had hit the bull's-eye. She was anything but wrong.

* * *

* Quite indicative of the French nature of the original story.

So, I plan to be working on the story a little more than I have nothing to do but sit in my house and recover. Still have little energy (like pre-transplant), but this time it can only go up, instead of being indicative of organ failure.


	14. Chapter 14

This story is property of Melzart, and Yu-Gi-oh! is copyrighted to Kazuki Takahashi.

Told you I'd have more time - this chapter was _really _long but I managed to pull it off in day! Maybe I'll find a life sometime... yeah.

* * *

Chapter 14

_The Happy Campers_

Mokuba had taken over; this, also, Kaiba never would have normally allowed. But his little brother, who would soon be as tall as he was, didn't cause him any grief. He knew that if he got the chance he would look after Naomi with as much zeal as he could himself muster. Seeing as these weren't quite normal times, he certainly couldn't go head to head with her as Kaiba ordinarily would have persisted. Naomi wasn't the type of girl to let herself get caged in and obey her captor's every word.

But what he took from the joyous duo was an animated satisfaction which surpassed his expectations.

First, the two became a trio including himself. The new situation would not be without bringing healthy new perspectives on the future of the Kaibas. On the contrary, to his greatest joy, many doors were now opening for them.

Thus the grin that had stuck to his lips upon leaving the kitchen was not due to the more or less comical scene but to the teamwork between the two beings he loved most in the world alone.

Like him, since the first day, Mokuba felt strangely connected to Naomi, animated by a adoration of her limitless sincerity. Kaiba understood it well; Mokuba held her in high esteem and had great respect for her, which he personally believed more difficult to win from himself. However, even Seto Kaiba had immediately taken to her, practically uncontrollably. It was terribly painful to admit. And deep inside, though he fought to deny it, he would not entirely allow it, preferring first to admit that everything was working more well than his wildest dreams could have imagined.

From the beginning, she had fought him unreservedly and without fear. She was so intrepid, so voluntary, she let nobody impose themselves upon her. It was true, that fact had immeasurably seduced him.

So now Mokuba was responding exactly as Kaiba would have; he accepted that right away. Not like some future, forced sister-in-law. No. Like a friend, a guardian. Even an accomplice, maybe.

Yes, Kaiba was dreaming: she was becoming the cornerstone of their powerful triangle, the three protecting the others with an almost unconquerable ferocity, looking after their union and covering each other's backs.

Yes, he already saw the three of them taking over a world which could not resist them.

There was nothing left than for Naomi to conquer her personal demons.

And he was going to help her at all costs.

"Say, Mokuba…"

The food continued to cook over a soft fire in their respective pans. So Naomi believed it was time to move on to more serious matters.

"Can I ask you a question?"

She had purposefully lowered her voice, preparing the terrain in case it ended up glittering more than the young boy's personal life.

"Er, yeah, of course," he said with spontaneity, too busy taking in the odors of all of the food.

"Okay, I'm going to say it," she said again. "But you don't have to answer."

_Oh. This sounds bad, _he thought to himself quickly. Totally inexperienced with women, he didn't know quite what to expect.

"Er… oh…kay," he hesitated, letting his syllables drag out. But not because he was looking to avoid her.

She easily took notice of his malaise, which gave her a certainty gaiety. She felt it without really wanting it, looking first to help him.

"Don't you have a girlfriend?" she asked, disarmingly calm.

A pretty rose tint immediately flew over Mokuba's face, who instantly began to sputter, breathing completely unintelligible syllables.

"Bwah… waho… na… er…. grr..."

As much charmed as profoundly amused by his candor, she took the pleasure to gently mock him.

"You don't know how to say it. I see… So, I'll try to…"

Mokuba reddened even further, placing a hopeless hand on the nape of his neck.

"Mah… na… but… byah…" he wished to defend himself, but no coherent word came to the service of his whirlwind of thoughts.

"… is she a frog? No?" she said loudly, on the verge of laughter. "No. A goose? A magpie? Hm. This isn't easy. Okay. Let me help you. Give me a consonant… then a vowel… then another consonant… then-"

"Agh!" he interrupted lively as he realized just how well she was turning him around in circles. "No! Okay!"

"Well! That's better. What's her name?"

Naomi continued despite his complete lack of ease.

He seemed as thunderstruck as he was secretly disappointed.

"No!" he shouted again.

But he soon realized that it was impossible to escape from her even though the urge to save himself and run away was turning out to be quite loquacious.

Before the combination of her silence and the need to respond, he managed to finally calm himself down and reassemble the thoughts flying about in his head.

"I… I don't have one. What would make you think that?"

He blushed far before the truth was spoken.

"Really? But that can't be true, Mokuba. There's not even one girl that you like?"

The tender and evasive smile on the young boy's lips as he remembered the pretty face of a blonde somebody could not evade Naomi's detection.

He had never talked about it with Seto. He had never spoken about it with anyone.

It was thus that an almost insane idea interrupted his train of thought. Maybe he _could_, with her.

After all, she was a female person; surely she could be a judicious counsel. She appeared to be quite delicate in the field.

He thus chose to give up.

"Er… there's someone I really like, I guess," he confided quietly.

"Oh, I'm glad. Really."

Naomi's eyes seemed suddenly ready to radiate with joy.

"And?"

"Er… I dunno. I like her I lot, I guess, but… I don't know about her… really."

"Mokuba!" she cut in immediately. "Do you know her or not?"

"Er… no."

His expression had changed to that of shame. He simply didn't know. But he was thinking about it.

_Why not?_

"Well… she's in most of my classes…" he began under Naomi's attentive ear, not daring to look at her in case things could destabilize if she grew too curious on him.

Although he started off reticent, although he now showed interest in this young blonde girl he met at random with one of the guards a little bit before he met Naomi and found himself in that hangar.

He confided in her with alacrity the moments that he had spent with Samantha when, sometimes, profiting from a brief lack of vigilance on the part of one of his bodyguards, he had risked walking with her or bringing her back to her house. It was one of his first truly sentimental experiences.

"Hmm… she seems nice," Naomi muttered about Mokuba's description.

"Oh yes! She is!" he replied in a heartbeat.

"Ah. And so you had to have made her a little Christmas gift, right?"

Mokuba's shoulders slacked discouragingly. Visibly, he hadn't quite put that plan into motion.

"I… wanted to. I really did. But I didn't know what… besides, I don't even know if she likes me back or not."

"But what's stopping you from asking? How will you ever know otherwise?"

She could confirm in him that everything was transitory in his eyes. Often, one is happy or sad just as it happens. Even though it was also true that, sometimes, things are more difficult than they appear. Especially if she were to refer to her relationship with Seto.

But Mokuba still did not respond, lost in his memories.

"Well… what's more, you don't need to be head over heels in love to make her a present and show that you really like her, you know? Whether she shares your feelings or not, she'll really enjoy it, I'm sure of it."

"Well…yeah…you're right," he admitted, a tad annoyed. "But I think it's too late for this time. I messed everything up."

He seemed quite torn by his remorse.

"Maybe not," she responded, beaming.

As if hope had suddenly been struck back into him, he kept his eyes trained on her, his expression almost mendicant-like.

What was she insinuating with that?

"It's true! Maybe Santa Claus hasn't forgotten you. Who knows?"

Everything was ready for breakfast. So she turned off all the flames on the stove as Mokuba stood there, visibly shaken by her words.

"Listen, Mokuba. I'm going to tell you a secret. You can do what you want with it."

As if she suddenly feared Seto's return, or that he was leaning against the wall and was in the middle of spying on them, she lowered her voice before continuing.

"At the foot of the tree, on the silver box with the blue ribbon – one of your gifts – there's another really small one. It's red and velvet. It's not marked in any way. Really easy to pick out, you see?"

It seemed as if Mokuba could salivate, as his eyes widened and his jaw slackened.

"Well, it's for you. Make good use of it," she murmured as she tenderly placed her fingers on his cheek.

Unable to resist the intrigue any longer, he readied himself to run into the living room.

"May I?"

She nodded.

"But!"

The spry young boy stopped in his tracks.

"Come back to help me with the plates, please."

"Don't bother," Kaiba responded as he returned into the kitchen. "I'll deal with it."

He didn't know what all of the general commotion was about, but he arrived just in time to catch its tail end. Naomi wasn't too displeased as he came to attach himself to her side.

Her sides were beginning to hurt her and she began to feel the effort that she had placed into her work; now she was certain that she was definitely not in shape. But she was proud to have accomplished so much. Without any help, either.

"Mokuba?" he asked, looking at her.

"Oh, I think he probably forgot something or something like that, I don't know," she lied gently.

But Seto's attention had once again fallen to focus just upon her person.

"You're making a big deal out of it, Naomi. It's really not necessary."

His cold tone hadn't fooled anybody. He was still worried about her.

"Shouldn't you rest another moment or two?" he mocked, a part of him still regretting the fact that she had left his arms so soon.

_Nothing made you go… I would have loved for you to stay…_

A light shiver slinked through Naomi's body as he persisted to approach even closer to her.

She was convinced he was doing it on purpose.

Even Kaiba's expression had softened as his thoughts returned to sweet memories.

Again, despite the fact he could easily sense that he was troubling her, he didn't stop himself.

"Looks safe… you sure there's no risk? Should I ask for a taste?"

Naomi allowed herself to stare down at him, acting insulted.

Apparently he was feeling especially cuddly… his hands wrapped around Naomi's hips as he closed in.

She was still trembling. But Kaiba understood also that her efforts had drained her more than she had previous believed.

_What if we went back upstairs… I know you're tired… we could… no… let you rest…_

A new desire ripped through his entire being. Yet although the thought certainly was encouraging and he was coming off as a complete blockhead, as he could tell from her expression, the will to see her truly at rest pulled its own weight in the balance of things.

Without really realizing it, she had shut her eyes, prey to fall into his arms, or to the same ardent feelings.

_It's Christmas, after all. I'd really like to get the most out of my present… _he thought as he pulled her closer.

_Grr… stop, Seto!_

If she hadn't played the prideful so often, she would have let her head fall into his shoulder, ceasing to fight the inevitable.

Once more, her arms lowered.

"Wow! Thanks, Naomi!" Mokuba yelled, interrupting the scene and also causing, to Naomi's relief, the separation of their bodies.

_GRRR! Mokuba! I hate it when he does that! I've really got to speak to him._

Seto, greatly irritated, immediately jumped back into the guise of making conversation.

"Thanks? For what?"

Mokuba looked as if he could start blabbering again. How could he explain it to his brother, who knew nothing about his private life, far away from him and KaibaCorp?

"Oh, it's nothing, Mokuba, I told you that. And thanks to _you _for helping me with breakfast. You really pulled it off."

Kaiba, perspicacious, right away felt something between them and was suspicious of some sort of secret between them. But he purposefully chose to not let his curiosity insist. He chose, moreover, to not get himself into what seemed to be their own business.

Now Naomi seemed more calm, now that she was focused on something other than her own troubles. He was strongly satisfied to recognize that it would only last for a short period of time – she was already winning.

Exhausted, Naomi couldn't withstand the pain of her leg muscle flexing on her way to the table, which almost caused her to fall. But like quicksilver Kaiba's arms had made a protective barrier. He didn't like the momentary weakness at all, which could have been entirely avoided if she hadn't so stubbornly insisted upon making all of this food.

"I'm fine," she said as she straightened, holding on to her sides.

"No, you're not," he reproached.

"Naomi!" Mokuba shouted as he speeded towards her to aid her just as his brother had already done. "I thought you listened to Seto and went to go get some more rest."

"No," she quipped simply in response, already feeling better. "I didn't do all of this for nothing. Let's just eat, okay?"

Mokuba easily saw the worry and anger in his brother's eyes. He immediately tried to find rapid and effective ways of appeasing the two of them.

"Okay," he responded. "So now just relax. Just sit down and we'll do the rest, right, Seto?"

He felt it. Kaiba was on the verge of exploding, of letting every devil and god face his wrath. But he acquiesced to Mokuba's solution: she had to manage.

Although she despised how she was being led into the dining room, she had no choice but to bend to Kaiba's will, who led her to the closest chair.

In his boundless enthusiasm in carrying the plates from the kitchen to the dining room, Mokuba quite suddenly stopped halfway at the sight of them; a tender scene offered itself to him, the evidence insurmountable.

His brother, normally so cold, now anything but rigid and firm, was managing to show so much care as he helped her into her chair. However, he understood: Seto was irrevocably the man most pained in accomplishing the task. Perhaps without even realizing it, he was almost chivalrous, even if no sound left his lips. Even if nothing helped him to notice it, the emotion was plainly painted across his face.

Did he know his little brother was spying on him, and had thus affirmed his wishes for her to stay and relax so imperatively? Or had nothing changed in his behavior once he was alone with Naomi, holding back even the slightest moment of flexibility?

If so, how could she appreciate the misplaced stolidity which pretended to be a sentimental relationship? As for her, though she looked far more human, she still wouldn't throw herself senselessly at his feet. She was also prideful by nature, exceptional examples sparse.

But the scene was touching. Profoundly so. He wasn't naïve enough to not feel the electric current crackling between the two.

How could he, Mokuba, behave in a romantic relationship if he only followed the model he saw before his eyes?

"Mokuba!" Kaiba shouted.

Maybe he had noticed the moment of distraction. But he was now speeding up the process, based on Naomi's fatigue.

"Er… yeah, I'm coming," he responded as he hurried to deliver the last two remaining plates, which he placed upon the table.

Seto was seated on the opposite end of the table, now not seeming too concerned about his guest, as if he had already had enough.

Mokuba was about to sit down when he suddenly bounded right back up.

"Oh snap! The coffee!"

As if he were somewhat irritated, Seto got up smoothly.

"It's fine. I'll do it."

He then returned dolefully to the kitchen.

_He's so strange sometimes, _Mokuba thought as he watched him walk away.

Naomi still hadn't said anything. She seemed happy despite the paleness of her face, thus showing she had just about reached her limit.

But she was watching him, nevertheless refusing to speak.

"Thanks a lot, Nao…" he nearly whispered. "Are you sure that…?"

"Yes. Absolutely," she responded to the question he had little time to ask. "Do what you have to, Moki."

_Moki?_

He started.

"Oh, sorry," she corrected at his reaction. "Mokuba."

He didn't quite know why. But something told him that she only meant to be affectionate. So he happily insisted upon the nickname.

"No… no, that's okay. I like it."

It was upon their mutual exchange of smiles that Kaiba came back to the table, raising an eyebrow questioningly.

Strangely, the two of them bowed their heads, not wanting to respond to his curiosity.

_Strange things are going on here… I need to look after them more closely._

On this thought, he sat down, highly valuing what appeared to be Naomi kiddingly making fun of him.

"Mokuba!" he ordered. "Eat!"

The two congealed in their chairs; Mokuba because he hadn't been expecting quite that tone and Naomi because she had the sudden desire to stand up and slap him, make him take back his words.

She didn't have the time, though, to respond before Mokuba reacted violently to his brother's impoliteness, throwing him a strong, reproachful glance.

"Seto!"

It was true that he was just as affected by the direct offensive, demonstrating great zeal in protecting himself in front of Naomi. This fundamentally pleased Kaiba - his judgment had been exact: the triangle had been formed without any effort on his part.

Now he held the same authoritative glare, the one which would accept no reprimand, wanting to see just how far Mokuba would instinctively go.

He resisted, to his great surprise.

"That's awful. Aren't you ashamed?" he continued to spit.

_What? Mokuba? You know full well who you're talking to! I hope you haven't forgotten!_

Naomi disliked being the focus of this _charming _exchange. She chose wisely to let them settle it out for themselves, sincerely convinced that Seto would eventually back off. Why, she couldn't say. But there was now no animosity in the tone of his voice.

From the beginning, he had only wanted to tease her, nothing more. As he had done in the kitchen.

It was also true that she liked how the young man threw himself to her defense, although the gesture could have been better planned.

Mokuba soon realized Kaiba's mockery as his lips peeled back in a more or less amused grin.

_Oh, you've got to be kidding me. He got me there_, he thought, averting his eyes.

If he hadn't had such respect for the meal he made with Naomi, he would have thrown it in his brother's face, which would have been funny also, ready to have a food fight with breakfast. But he stopped himself.

He would have his revenge.

Kaiba was the first to place a fork to his mouth. Of course he hadn't doubted Naomi's culinary talents. The omelet truly was tasty.

"Mmm," Mokuba sighed as he appeared to devour instead of chew. "Where'd you learn to do that?"

"Oh, seriously, Moki, it's just an omelet," she laughed.

_MOKI! What the -! Since when!_

Seto sat there, stupefied. He had apparently missed some very large steps they had taken.

But the teamwork between them left him with an evident satisfaction. He was happy now. Maybe he had even found in Mokuba the best way to keep Naomi alongside him.

Kaiba couldn't say whether it was due to the fatigue or simply because she was enjoying the morning, but she began to unwind.

"But you know… it was normal for me to be in hotel kitchens… I always loved to walk downstairs in the morning and make something for myself. And rubbing elbows with the chefs has its advantages," she admitted, as if recounting happy memories.

"Aren't you used to your room by now?"

She sighed gently, mockingly.

"You mean like you two are?"

Kaiba's head shot up but he declined to comment. Yes. He used it and he wasn't ashamed of it.

Mokuba seemed less comfortable with their opulence. He knew that in the real world not everybody was as rich as they were. And he also knew that what they hadn't wasn't absolutely necessary, either.

"I find no pleasure in making others do things. I like to do things myself. That way I'm always happier with what I do," she admitted, noticing Kaiba's reaction as being that of growing anger. "Plus, it's fun to cook from time to time…"

This time, she was setting him off on purpose.

"At least that way you know what's inside it and you don't ask so many questions when it's time to eat it."

_Woah! One-zip for Naomi! _Mokuba thought as Kaiba's head whipped around to glare at her.

A flash of amusement had even crossed his eyes.

He was, in fact, far from being angry.

_Don't play with me, Naomi. At least until you're feeling better._

Strangely, and although they had shared but a single glance, Mokuba could plainly see Naomi blush furiously. One could have said that they shared a secret thought at the same moment, or that they had spoken without moving their lips. From what Kaiba saw, he couldn't imagine what.

Then she just as mysteriously turned away to bore her eyes into the center of her plate.

Very odd.

Like a king on his throne, Kaiba's glare soon bifurcated onto his brother. It was obvious they were doing something right underneath his nose.

"So, Mokuba… you have things planned for today?"

_Grr… he suspects something_, Mokuba realized. _Not good._

He sputtered slightly despite his attempt to keep his countenance and not betray himself.

"Oh! Er… I have to… go to a friend's house today…"

"A friend?" Kaiba pressed him.

"On Christmas?"

Naomi found a real sense of sympathy for Mokuba in his embarrassment. But she couldn't keep interfering between the two brothers. Moreover she supposed that coming to his aid at this stage would do nothing than pique Seto's suspicions even higher. She could never underestimate him.

"Do I know him?" Kaiba continued, his left eyebrow arched high, an interrogator who believed no word that his little brother was saying.

_Phew… at least he thinks it's a guy._

"Er…. no! He's a school friend. You don't know him. I promised I'd go over today because he's got a cool video game collection and- "

Kaiba detected the lie from a million miles away. Further, even. It was obvious that Mokuba was intentionally hiding something from him and, he knew it, Naomi was well aware of the mystery. This reassured him because it meant no danger if she had agreed to it. Only, he simultaneously realized that he was not in charge of this situation, especially in the eyes of his younger brother. Maybe he had neglected him too much with all of the recent events shaking up their lives.

He believed it more prudent to give up: sooner or later, he knew.

"Fine," he approved, pretending to not be too worried about it.

"What?" Mokuba yelled, barely believing his ears. "Er, yeah, thanks. I'll be back for dinner, I promise."

Although she had eaten little off of her plate, Kaiba was satisfied to see her eat. Mokuba was working on the last remaining morsels of his second plate, which told Kaiba that he was either very hungry or very nervous.

As for himself, he had also eaten little; but he was obligated to fill his stomach. First to make her happy, but also because it was delicious and it was Christmas. He could loosen his grip a little.

"Mokuba," she asked as she attempted to rise. "Could you please help me clean up?"

"Don't," Kaiba said dryly. "Marie will do it when – "

"NO!" Naomi promptly interrupted.

The hairs on Kaiba's body bristled.

_Grr… just stop! When are you going to realize that they're paid to do that?_

"I don't give a damn," she replied to the following silence. "You know what I think!"

Mokuba flinched. He thought he heard nothing leave Seto's lips, though, who had provoked Naomi's response in the first place.

The room once more fell silent as they all continued to stare at each other.

More angered than ever, Mokuba to not become involved, avoid an unnecessary quarrel.

He shot up and swept up two plates at random.

"Put those down," Kaiba ordered, not accepting Naomi's reprimanding.

"Thanks, Moki," she said, still trying to stand by placing a hand on the table for support.

Kaiba's hands closed into even tighter fists.

He had also stood in a movement, standing before her like a menacing thunderhead.

Mokuba flinched again even though he pertinently knew that she had nothing to fear from his brother.

"Sit down," Kaiba said, fighting desperately to keep a cold tone free of frustration.

_Grrr… what a bull-headed… _he groaned silently as he swept towards the kitchen.

A certain sadness passed over Naomi's face, accompanied by the shadow of anger.

She sighed loudly, exasperated. Something was stuck in her throat.

"You're still a little bit fragile, Naomi," Mokuba whispered, who wanted above all to bring back her good mood. "Seto's worried. He doesn't like you taking charge."

"I know, Mokuba. That's exactly what makes me mad. It's a weakness that I hate."

_Weakness. Weak. Vulnerable. Miserable._

Those words she loathed most.

"And I can't allow myself…" she hissed between her teeth, more determined than ever to not depend any longer on her own physical state.

Coiling her hands in rage, she stood, ignoring the long swathes of pain which flooded her body.

He was powerless. Like Kaiba, who had returned to hear her final words. He held back, staring at her with an austere look.

What could he do apart from either submitting or completely revolting, exploding and thus poisoning the relationship?

Mokuba rushed to clear the table. Anything to not be stuck in some sort of standoff.

"Naomi."

"Don't say a word, Kaiba. Nothing could – "

"No. I only want you to follow me," he cut in quickly. "I have something to show you."

_And don't call me Kaiba._

Calm.

Cunning as a fox, he would prefer a thousand times over to distract her than become bogged down in an interminable discussion.

"You feel up to it?" he asked her.

_Up to it? Will you stop worrying about me?_

"Yes," she responded, determined to come off as invulnerable.

He wisely decided to wait until she asked for his help, something which didn't happen. But he was ready to do so the entire way there, a path which took them to the basement of the house, during which he took special care to watch her as they went down the stairs.

She wondered just how many floors the house could have. It was true that she was aching horribly throughout her body from the effort; but she showed nothing.

Had he brought her to flaunt his wealth?

"Don't move," he said as he moved to the other side of the room.

Normally, he would have insisted that she follow him and discover for herself the present he had made for her. Yet conscious of her exertion and of her misplaced pride, he decided to instead put himself in charge of the act.

With a swipe of the arm, he pulled back an immense white sheet which was covering the new racecar he was giving to Naomi; it was an identical copy to her own, the one which was still under reparation since the incident she had had with Kaiba on the track.

"What the hell is this?" she asked, stupefied.

He had tried to fix her car and then had even _brought _it here?

"No," he answered her thoughts. "This is an exact replica of your car. Of course… I allowed myself to make a couple of modifications in handling to allow it to perform better, as well as make it more safe."

_What the… ? Why did he do this? But… I'm speechless._

"This truly wasn't necessary," she whispered quietly, still indecisive as to what reaction to adopt. "That's very kind… really… but I can't accept it."

"What?" he yelled, disenchanted.

"I can't, " she insisted.

_Seto… I won't be here long enough to make use of it, anyway._

"It's a present, Naomi. You can't just refuse them," he spat, on the verge of being conquered again by his anger.

Especially when said present came from Seto Kaiba.

"You already gave me one at the orphanage. And that one had no price, Seto. That one was more than enough."

_No, it wasn't! Naomi, it's a present! It's Christmas!_

She knew full well how much she was offending him, though it wasn't her intention. She decided to comply.

"I understand," she began again. "But this is really too much, Seto."

The deception was working. But amongst all possible weapons, he chose the quietest: cunning.

"It's annoying, you see? It's because when you're on foot… I had thought I'd give you a chance to avenge yourself to my victory."

He was playing, and she wasn't stupid. But unwilling to cause him any further harm, her scowl melted away.

"Your victory? Hm. Hm…" she said, trying not to laugh.

"… It's not often that I give people a second chance," he insisted as he drifted towards her.

His good nature had re-sprung.

"Fine… if that's what you want. But don't come crying to me afterwards," she let herself tease.

_I know I'm hurting you. Forgive me, Seto. Even if the worst is yet to come._

Forgetting all of the omens, she approached him herself now, tenderly, trying as best as she could to hide the distress buried in her heart.

"Thank you. But it's too much. Far too much," she murmured.

Without pushing her thoughts further, she let herself fall into his arms, into shelter.

_I'd like to do so much more… no… I won't_, he thought.

This was certainly the best consolation for his heart.

"Okay. But if I accept your present, you have to accept mine. Alright?"

He almost felt like laughing.

Hadn't she already understood that he had already accepted all of her?

"You want to help me back upstairs?"

_She said it. She dared to…?_

Kaiba was flooded with a sincere joy to see her trust him. Perhaps now the fruits of his labor were finally ripening?

Although helped by Kaiba's solid grip, the trip back to the living room passed by sufficiently horribly. She was more exhausted than ever.

"So can we open the presents?" Mokuba shouted, sitting adjacent to the tree, an impatient child once again.

"Naomi has to rest a little bit, Mokuba."

"No, it's alright," she told Kaiba. "I'll be okay."

The tint of Naomi's face had whitened even further. Mokuba did not protest.

"No, we can wait until later, right, Seto?"

He barely nodded his approval, but was infinitely aware.

"It's true, Nao. You should relax," Mokuba repeated.

She had no more energy left with to fight, especially against two.

"Just one present, Seto… for Mokuba," she begged him.

Of course he was going to object. But faced with such insistence, he allowed his little brother to open his first present.

The box – gold and wrapped in a ribbon the color of well-done steak – was miniscule. It could pass for a jewelry box. Which surprised Kaiba, who had never been the kind to offer things he judged to be useless or superficial, especially to his brother.

But Mokuba was hurrying to rip off the wrapping.

"Wow! Seto! No way! Is this - ?" he stammered, crazy with joy under Kaiba's ever-blank eye.

"Is this really what I think it is? Tell me, big brother!"

It was with great pride that Kaiba finally opened his mouth.

"Why not?"

_What the hell is it?_

Naomi didn't ask, either, despite her curiosity.

"Where? Tell me where!" Mokuba demanded, jumping up and down.

In no time he was hugging Seto, who lay there confused by the sudden and spontaneous emotional outburst, which was rare.

"In the basement," he breathed, as if annoyed. Which he wasn't at all, really.

He was thrilled to have made his brother this happy.

In his infinite enthusiasm Mokuba launched himself at Naomi whom he squeezed in his arms without thinking for an instant about her condition, to Kaiba's horror as he shot up.

Naomi was badly startled.

"Oh! Sorry! Sorry! I forgot!" he excused himself, saddened for having caused her any pain.

"It's fine," she said as she caught her breath.

"Look!" he told her as he opened the box.

On the inside were two sets of keys. She easily recognized them as car keys.

"Hey Seto, can I, can I?"

Mokuba was stomping around like a kid eager to play with his new toys.

_Grr… Mokuba, stop acting like a child._

"Yes," Kaiba responded, who ignored all thought of leaving.

They quickly lost sight of him.

"Your turn," said Naomi.

"No. Later," Kaiba responded dryly, only concerned with bringing her back up to the bedroom.

"No. Right now."

He went to protest but she shut him up before he spoke a single word.

"I am not changing my mind."

Every year, Kaiba received dozens if not hundreds of presents at Christmas as well as at his birthday; they came from, for the most part, people he detested. Serpents which wound themselves around his ankles after having begged at his feet for so long. Those who hoped for his good graces in return. Those who bended before him and his will. Even those who both doubted and feared his power.

He received presents from fans, too; ordinary people whom he didn't know but whom didn't have a single chance of reaching his level. People who, apparently, envied and thought so highly of him that they thought of him at holiday times. It was touching. Troubling, maybe, now that he thought about it. But they were so far away from him that they barely mattered.

Except for Mokuba, nobody else could move him.

So, for the first time ever, a present was offered to him by another person and he liked it; that rare person which neither waited for him or demanded anything else in return. Not a sliver of proof of affection or his respect for her; everything came from him. She certainly wasn't too blind to be unable to see anything and feel something in the presence of this normally polar-cold human being. She had to have understood for a long while the crazy, drunken feeling she stirred in him every single time.

Alas. This present was not normal. Anything for him.

Didn't she know that there was nothing ordinary about her to his eyes? That her sole presence was already priceless, so much so he could barely understand it all himself?

Had he blushed, momentarily, before the immense silver present that she pointed out to him?

Come on, of course he hadn't. It wasn't his normal character to feel embarrassed or touched. They were amongst the futile words in his dictionary.

"So, are you going to open it or not?" she asked him.

Kaiba remained frozen in place. He hadn't realized just how much time had passed between the moment when he had placed his eyes on the package and the one where Naomi's voice brought him back to reality.

Strange…

If Kaiba had learned just one thing, it was to not to drift off uselessly, as he was doing now. For not even a second. However, hadn't he just gotten lost in his thoughts, without knowing exactly what was happening?

Unpardonable. A slight instant of deviation. Minimal. But which in times of war and agitation would have cost him his company and his head.

Was it all of these recent events which had shaken him done so to such a point to crack through his exemplary discipline, almost too zealously, or the simple and so real thought to take something from someone who would have never wanted but to make him happy? Feet dragging away from an international corporation, rich and powerful, just hoping to secure the smallest favor? No. Not this impetuous duelist who had never yet had the humility to submit to his forever rival, Yugi Motou or Yami or whatever his name was but without which he seemed implacable, almost cruel.

Not to this man who was practically a danger to her, despite his wishes, whom he had welcomed and nursed during her long convalescence in the desire to know her. No. Not anymore.

Naomi thought only of others. He was certainly not an exception.

But it was without any doubt that she addressed first and foremost, and always would, the farthest reaches of her own being.

It was like Kaiba went back to school – the one that gives no diploma. In fact, what did he know, what did he understand about life beyond that one which he had erected for himself, with great sacrifices just to be appreciated, greatest master of the most inaccessible mountaintops of miserable mortals. He was entirely above that.

Could it be that he was truly moved, then? To the point that he did not know how to react before the disarming simplicity of a single woman? All of this for a freaking Christmas gift?

Ugh. Touched, Seto Kaiba? Could it be?

Why did he have to fight to stop his fingers from trembling upon receiving the package?

Did he fear that he would dislike what he found within? No. A Kaiba fears nothing. If not, he'd throw it away.

Wasn't it just excitement? Exactly like the young child who hopes until Christmas morning to open his presents to know whether or not he got his electronic toy train or his baseball glove? The child who thanks his parents far in advance for having thought of him in the sole desire to show just how much they loved him? The tiny, happily crazy boy so deep inside of him who demanded nothing but to be reassured, understood, loved?

Seto Kaiba had not asked anything of anyone in a very long time. He bought, he borrowed, he extorted and he ordered anything and everything he wished. Maybe to fill an empty space which had never really considered before until his fingers finally placed themselves on top of that damned silver box.

Curious. His throat was shut so tightly that he could no longer feel any saliva in his mouth; it seemed that she had pioneered a path higher than eye level. Those beautiful blue eyes which interested him so strangely.

_Come on, breathe, Kaiba. It's just a stupid present, after all._

Holding on firmly so as to not tear outright through the gold tape, he carefully untied the ribbon and then undid the paper with patience.

Naomi took notice of his hesitation.

"I…" she began, suddenly uncomfortable. "Honestly, I didn't quite know what to get you. You already have everything."

Kaiba flinched despite himself to these seemingly innocent words. They hurt him even more deeply. He could buy anything. Anything.

_Except you, Naomi. Except you._

He quickly turned his eyes towards her. But sensing dryness in those same eyes which risked showing some sort of emotion, he reconsidered by turning his head back towards the present, preferring to keep silent so as to hear the rest of what she had to say.

"I… I'll also admit that I was foolish… I… I didn't release at first that… well… you'll understand, I suppose."

The immense box, filled with stuffing of various colors, was easy to open.

And then he saw it. Small, and yet so large, all at once.

It was the magnificent crystal dragon with the bluish tint which had been representative of him since the beginning. His life, his goals, his inspiration of grandeur and power. Everything had tied the breathtaking animal he knew so well to him since childhood.

"I hope you like it…. I wasn't sure at first," she said again, almost ashamedly. "I didn't realize… well… I don't know. It reminded me of you somewhat."

Kaiba stood, attentively listening to her.

"Your eyes, I think…" she breathed, as if she didn't really want him to hear her latest confession.

_Naomi… did you… tell me. Did you really…?_

She sat there, confused, totally uncertain as to whether the high-price gift had really pleased him or not. Stupid. She had never before felt so entirely stupid.

From his height, Kaiba stood immobile for a long moment, scrutinizing her face without daring to break the halo of warmth and silence that surrounded them.

Ever the more gently, his fingers came to rest upon her cheeks.

"It's superb," he admitted quietly. "And I even know where to put it."

_Thank you. Could I kiss you now?_

But instead of putting his lips to hers, he brought her closer against him.

It was crazy just how much he craved the warmth of her body. Crazy how nothing could compare to this pure form of happiness. It was so simple – it was the happiness that could not be bought.

"I think it's time to go upstairs now. You need rest," he sighed half-heartedly at the need to separate from her.

. . . . . . . . .

Naomi sound asleep, Kaiba took the time to walk back downstairs to the ground floor and into his office. He had decided to abandon what he considered to be useless emotions as he plunged back into his work.

Even Mokuba had been absent from the house for several hours already. He thus found all the leisure he needed to focus completely on what needed to be done.

_Ding dong_

The front doorbell rung and Kaiba couldn't decide whether he should deign open it.

_Ding dong_

_ Grr… but who could be coming around on _Christmas?

Suddenly remembering that nobody was here to open the door, he was obligated to get up.

_Ding dong_

_Grr… hold on, I'm coming… you're going to end up waking up Naomi, you idiots._

Cries of rejoicing and evidence of heated discussion could be heard on the other side of the door.

He went to look through the windowpane and saw that it was _the _group of undesirables; but one particular one with an enormous head with chesnut-colored hair was amongst them.

"Oh, oh, Kaiba!" he was shouting, almost singing.

_Grrr… it just _had _to be them_.

Soon the door opened upon a band of young men joined by a woman.

Yugi, Tristan, Joey, Duke, and Téa were huddling together outside. They were quite alive with the holiday spirit given their beaming, happy faces.

"Merry Christmas, Kaiba!" they all shouted as a chorus.

To be honest, Kaiba was taken aback. He was happy that the thought to visit him had tickled their fancy. But what made him re-think his participation in the ephemeral joy of the occasion was that somebody more important was sleeping on the third floor and he wished for nothing to trouble her.

"What?" he replied, as if it were all a joke.

"Merry Christmas, Kaiba."

In one gesture Yugi gave him a bag filled with delicious little candies. There was true heart behind it. He knew it came from a real desire to be friends.

"Oh," Kaiba said, lightly disoriented. "I'd invite you inside, but I don't have time, and Mokuba isn't here."

"Yeah, that's right, always the charmer, Kaiba," Joey gaily reprimanded him, too used to his discordant mood to take offense.

"Exactly," he repeated, slightly annoyed. "I want no company today. If not, I would have asked for it."

Joey raised a clenched fist.

"Oh, Kaiba. Man, you'll never change."

"Change? Why would I change, mutt?"

"Grr…" Joey growled as Yugi attempted to restrain him. "Well, okay, dude. We only stopped by to say hi and wish you a merry – "

"Very well, your message has been received," Kaiba hissed softly despite the fact that a part of him was quite agreeably surprised, and he was more or less in a joyful mood.

"Kaiba."

A much deeper, more profound voice escaped Yugi's mouth. Apparently the Pharaoh also wished to spread the holiday cheer.

This time he commanded all of Kaiba's attention, as respect, although not admitted, never lied.

"A very merry holiday season to you and to Mokuba. Tell him hello from all of us. We think a lot about the two of you."

Kaiba looked at him, placid.

"Thanks."

Then he finally put in a good word for them all.

"Happy holidays to you, too."

Joey and Duke looked as if they would run away for a short instant. They then had fun in actually doing so, sprinkling the lawn with even more snow as they fled.

The preposterous idea of using Kaiba as target practice suddenly became irresistible. So Joey scooped up a large handful of snow and began to pat it into shape.

"I should go in now," Kaiba said, starting to feel quite chilled.

"Yeah, yeah," Joey yelled at him. "Hey, Kaiba!"

Unable to resist the childish temptation any longer, the snowball hurtled directly into Kaiba's chest, who then grew wide-eyed in astonishment and anger when he saw them scurrying away like neighborhood bandits.

Seto quickly wiped off the snow on his sweater and held back the urge to scream. Maybe he deserved it, seeing how unwelcoming he had been.

. . . . . . . . .

On the third floor, Naomi hadn't missed too much of the occasion.

She was giggling gently. Maybe that's what Seto needed. Friendship. Real friends. Someone with whom to laugh and to live.

They seemed nice. Of course she did not judge herself to be sufficiently presentable in her current state and probably would not have been allowed to poke herself into Kaiba's private life. She knew that it was just a matter of time before she would be forced to leave once again. But this small bit of happiness – she let herself enjoy the moment. Isn't that all that _he _had to do?


	15. Chapter 15

The French story "Apparences" is property of Melzart, and the Yu-Gi-Oh! franchise belongs to Kazuki Takahashi.

* * *

Chapter 15

_Confessions_

"So… you're already back?"

Marie was busy washing the dishes and preparing what was soon to be their dinner.

"Yes, ma'am," she responded as she thrust arm towards the cupboard to take down another plate.

Naomi's eyes did not leave her, both happy to see her and shocked that her absence had barely been noticed. Was it Kaiba that accorded her such little time, or was it Marie's own initiative that she believed herself so indispensible to daily affairs of the house – as if she were herself a part of the furniture, of the décor?

"I'm really happy to see you, Marie. But I still think you deserved a little bit longer on vacation…"

_Grr… that's it. She's going to go back to criticizing me again_, Kaiba thought as he searched for a reply or a reproachful look at him. Naomi had again insisted to not stay in bed and had gone down to the kitchen to make herself a coffee, to Kaiba's great disdain.

He could easily sense that she seemed to want to stretch her convalescence into a month-long gig. He disliked this because he was beginning to lose control over her actions. But he couldn't continually be an obstacle to her; sooner or later, he'd have to face the reality.

"Oh," Marie said, startled. "It's very kind of you to ask, ma'am. Thank you very much. But I did come back a tad early, it's true."

She had blushed as she admitted it.

Kaiba was also watching her now, for the same reasons that Naomi had to be questioning herself over. It was true that Marie did not have to return until the afternoon two days from now. Forcibly he appeared to be as curious as the young woman, who didn't want to seem to ask much more.

Instead of directly asking her the question that was burning on the tip of her tongue, she decided to turn back to her knitting, so as to not disturb her further.

"Did everything not go as expected?"

Marie, who understood full well where Naomi was attempting to bring her, allowed herself to be won over by her perspicacious attitude.

"Well," she started again, reddening slightly and quickly casting a small glance in Kaiba's direction, "I thought that… I would be more useful here."

She was making doubtlessly an illusion to Naomi's physical state of health, which she now undeniably was concerned for.

Naomi and Kaiba practically jumped at the fact that her intentions came entirely from the heart.

Naomi was the first to answer her with a warm smile. Maybe her hair would have stood on end if it had come from anybody else. But recognizing the purely disinterested gesture of the well-intentioned maid, she didn't push it any further.

"Thanks, Marie," she said softly in her general direction.

The two of them stood there, immobile, wrapped in sincere affection.

_Oh, the life and times of women._

Although it annoyed him, making him feel uneasy, Kaiba hid his emotions admirably well, masking his sentimental overflow under an empty look.

There was no doubt in his mind: Kaiba had found another ally to his cause, a fact which didn't cause him any grief.

"Can I help you with anything?" Naomi dared to ask again.

"Oh, no, ma'am! Thank you, but…"

Kaiba was again fulminating at her exasperating stubbornness.

_Grr! Naomi! Stop trying so hard!_

He was about to protest, even about to grab her by the lapels and drag her with him. But Marie left him no time to do so when she answered his worries with an answer beyond his wildest hopes.

"… I don't think you should overwork."

Naomi froze in place.

_Argh… is that the key word in this house or what?_

While a real anger envenomed her spirit, she didn't push her.

"Fine," she sighed. "But I can still sit here a moment with you two, right?"

Kaiba's go-getting maid didn't know quite how to respond to this, visibly shaken in her thoughts.

Out of arguments, she looked for help in Kaiba's exasperated eyes. He didn't want to risk uselessly quarrelling with Naomi. He tried all the same to put her down as gently as he could.

"Marie can get along full well on her own."

_Calm down… you're in the Kaiba mansion, aren't you? You know he's not doing it to hurt you. Stay calm. While you're here, anyway._

While she fought furiously to not come across as disagreeable, she insisted all the same:

"Seto, I'm convinced that you have a ton of things to do. As for me, I'll just stretch my legs, okay?"

_Still in the middle of questioning my orders. She knows I hate that…. Well, I don't like it all, at least._

However, what could he do against her will, even though he objected to it with all of his person?

More gravely yet she kept an austere eye on him, the one that accepted no compromise.

"Seto…"

After all, it wasn't as if she were going to stay alone. Besides, he was no more than several steps from the kitchen when he was in his office. What did she risk when she was under Marie's attentive eye? She was another person that he now knew he could trust.

"Fine," he said quickly in an attempt to hide his acquiescence. "I'll be nearby."

Naomi breathed a sigh of relief. She was glad Kaiba was agreeing.

"Yes, sir," said Marie, wanting to reassure.

He was readying to leave the kitchen when Mokuba walked in.

"Hi everyone!" he said, quite joyously. "I'm on time like promised!"

Kaiba easily detected an abnormal happiness in the voice of his little brother. So he kept an inquisitive eye trained on him.

_Mokuba… what are you hiding?_

It was evident that Kaiba strongly suspected him of something.

_Careful, Mokuba, careful… You should have known that Seto is extremely sharp…_

Naomi decided to come to his aid, persuaded that Kaiba had already noticed the signs of a difficult-to-contain secret.

"You could leave in peace, now that Mokuba's here," she affirmed to Kaiba, who was suddenly knocked off-kilter in his quest for the truth. Not sufficiently, however, to prevent him from continuing to suspect his kid brother and even Naomi of being his partner in crime.

"Hm," he muttered, sharing a glare between the two of them.

If he didn't act fast, Mokuba would crack. Decidedly he tried to carefully articulate all of his words so as to not start spouting nonsense.

"It's okay, Seto. I'll do it. Everything'll be fine."

Larger than life himself, it was blaringly obvious to Kaiba that what Mokuba was saying wasn't holding any weight before the two of the people he loved most. Even though the entire story upset him terribly, he preferred to not stay on his case.

"Fine," he spat dryly before whipping around on his heels.

They had watched his departure withholding their breath, that much was for sure. So they both exhaled now, looking at each other for a moment.

"Hello, sir," said Marie.

"Hello, Marie. Did you have a good Christmas?"

"Oh yes, thank you very much, sir," she responded with a smile. Then her inner drive forced her to return to cleaning dishes.

Nothing could besmirch Mokuba's good humor. He stayed as perky as the child that he once had been.

"Oh, Mokuba," Naomi asked. "I was thinking… I was wondering if…"

Mokuba walked up to her, concerned and willing to be helpful.

"Is there a library in this house? What is there to read?"

"Oh! Of course there is! I'll take you there, if you want," he responded, happy to be of use.

"Okay, just a second. Let me get a coffee and I'll follow you."

"Wait!" he said. "I'll bring it to you."

. . . . . . . . .

More than just slightly agitated, Kaiba quietly engaged himself in his business affairs with the help of his laptop. It was true that he hadn't been entirely comfortable with his company for a while now. Everything was fine with it. No worries needed. But above all it was true that his floundering mind could not follow growth curves as well as the curves of Naomi's body.

Then again, all this staging to cover up their secret, almost jealously guarded, annoyed him slightly. It wasn't as if he were worried about it. But he had become more and more curious. It was becoming fishy.

This much mystery could not hold water under his watch. Sooner or later, he'd find out.

Naomi insisted upon making a stop in the living room.

"The envelope, Mokuba."

He softly stooped over to collect it from underneath the tree. It didn't seem to contain anything solid. If it contained anything, for that matter. But could he really trust appearances?

As if he were expecting approbation, he stayed still, his eyes floating over Naomi's envelope.

"It's for you, Mokuba. I spruced it up a bit, I admit. But I hope you still like it," she said as she kept her eyes on him and watched him open it with a slight hesitation.

"I know I'll like it because you gave it to me, Naomi," he said with a light smile.

There was nothing but a piece of paper on the inside. And even on that sheet it took him a moment to find any meaning in the house address written in Naomi's hand.

"You should take it up as soon as you can," she said again, amused by the young man's astonishment.

"I'm sorry, Naomi… but I don't understand."

She laughed gently as she stepped closer.

"That's okay. Let me explain," she said sweetly. "At that address, you'll find my mentor. Now, he's yours."

This was becoming stranger and stranger. Mokuba, who still didn't grasp anything that was happening, crinkled his eyebrows.

"Your…mentor?"

"Yes. What I'm giving you are courses in self-defense. I think it's very important that you learn to defend yourself, Mokuba."*

"Oh!"

He leapt up; there was no way he could have hidden his surprise.

"But…Seto…" he blabbered.

"Seto isn't aware of this. This is _my _present, Mokuba. And I expect you to go."

"But…"

He apparently didn't know how to react. The idea had never before crossed his mind. Besides, Seto had always been there to protect him. What she was asking of him, then, was for him to learn to fly upon his own set of wings.

"I know, he could pay for all of the private tutors on the planet," she continued. "Yet…"

He listened attentively.

"Nowhere in the world will you find a better mentor. He's one of the best, if not _the _best. And that's why I'm pressing you to go."

The tone of the conversation grew more grave.

He was still pondering.

"I understand – you've always lived with the presentiment that you have your brother's protection, right?"

The look he gave her was almost miserable.

"Yes, I know. And I get it, trust me. But I really think you should learn to defend yourself. Seto doesn't need it. He's already a natural fighter. He knows how to defend himself. That's not the case with you. And with the events that have been occurring recently, I think you understand better than anyone. I even think your brother would approve of it."

"You think so?"

"Yes, because he wants only the best for you. I'm completely convinced of that."

He stayed silent, almost like he was too taken aback to think straight.

"At least try, Mokuba. It's really important."

"Would you like me to?"

_I wonder if he hasn't gotten the same freaking stubbornness as his brother._

"Mokuba, this isn't about me. This isn't about your brother either. If you do this, it's for you. And nobody else."

"Will you help me?"

"Of course. Once I'm on my feet, you can practice on me… no problem," a most amused smile sketching itself upon her face.

So, was she staying?

The demi-confidence wasn't to make him unhappy. On the contrary. Under her wing, too, he would be safe.

"Okay," he breathed as he weighed the pros and cons.

It wasn't completely filled with purposefulness.

"Great! I'm so happy."

"Good. You're right, after all. Does Seto…"

"No!" she cut him off. "I told you. He doesn't know. It's between us…"

He approved with a nod of the head, but wondered how he would go about explaining his ever-increasing amount of absence.

"Thanks… so, er, do you want to go to the library?"

"Of course!"

"It's this way… let's go."

For the moment she figured that he was far too surprised to realize the great chance that she had just given him. Maybe one day he'd figure it out.

There was no doubt that it would somehow be beneficial for him.

There was no doubt, moreover, that Seto would approve of her gesture. Hadn't he already offered her a fortune to learn?

They soon arrived at one of the far ends of the immense mansion. Double doors graced the entrance of a seemingly large room.

Then he opened them.

A curious quietude seemed to have settled over Mokuba, who lingered at the doorway as if to let her move about inside at her leisure.

She walked over the threshold with a shaky step.

_What the…?_

Suddenly, she felt incensed with a disturbing sense of malaise – the disagreeable feeling of being prey to worst of the various forms of sadness. Something odd, coming from the room, made her do a double-take and step back.

It was more or less nice-looking at a glance; immense rows of books lined the four walls. In the center was a long red sofa, a recliner a bit further away, and a long table between them.

But the impression of devastation had not yet left her. It was practically unwholesome. What could be the matter with a room which seemingly looked full of peace and calm?

"What's wrong, Naomi?"

_This is ridiculous. Grab a book and get out._

"Nothing," she murmured as she battled to walk towards one section. "Are they in any particular order?"

"Hunh. I couldn't say. We never use this place. But Seto would know."

_It's okay. I can handle this._

She brought her hand up to one volume._ The Odyssey, _by Homer. It was even in Greek. Apparently it was a very old edition. If it wasn't a hundred years old, it seemed, it would at least be authentic. So she put it back out of respect.

The library had no fault. It could put many others to shame. It was a stunning collection.

But why did she feel so oppressed? Where was her unease stemming from?

_Ah, bibliographies. I like those._

With what seemed to him like a light shaking of the hands, she pulled out a book about the kings and queens of France, a country which she had never before visited but with which she was fascinated. Maybe one day she'd make a little history trip there, ancient marvels beckoning her with their far-off voices. She had always loved old countries exactly because of the charm of their extensive history, archeology being a sacred word in her dictionary.

For a short instant, as a euphoric passenger to the ride of the story, she almost forgot the disagreeable air of the place. It came back with no trouble, however.

She couldn't stay here any longer. She turned to leave.

The bad feeling intrigued her so much it stopped her in her tracks once she had walked up to Mokuba, who himself had been nailed into place.

He again noticed her apprehension.

"What's wrong, Nao?"

"I… I don't know. It's strange, though."

"What? What's strange?"

She waited a moment before telling him.

"You see… I've always liked the feel of libraries," she began, her eyes losing themselves in the room as if hunting down a mystery. "Because they are generally calm places, welcoming, and quite relaxing. You can sit back and find yourself and peace in them."

He wasn't going to try to decipher her allusions. He was lost.

"But," she continued, "I don't know, you see. I don't find that same peace in here. There's tons of books, yes. But the silence here is heavy and cold. So sad, too."

_I hate this room. I don't know why. I just don't like it._

If she were to consent to Mokuba's good graces, she couldn't quite see how to describe to him what was disturbing her so much. This room seemed sinister, uncomfortable to the highest degree. She had practically reeled with repulsion the second she walked through the door. How could she explain why?

"I don't know," she said again apologetically.

_It's crazy… this room makes me want to cry. What the hell is wrong with this room?_

There was a quick silence between them.

"It's funny you should say that," Mokuba said, who was always looking to understand.

Though the question was burning inside of her, she didn't open her mouth.

He appeared reticent as he went to follow up with an explanation.

"Of all of the rooms in this giant house… this is the one that Seto hates most. He hasn't been here in years."

It was like a bombshell went off, and Naomi was yanked from her torpor.

"What?"

She whipped back around to stare at him, demanding the secret. Apparently anything having to do with Kaiba didn't leave her indifferent.

Was he about to further unveil more of his brother's personality?

Before his almost ashamed silence, she corrected herself.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to be rude. It's none of my business."

Wasn't _entirely _false.

But…

_ Tell me, Mokuba. Why does Seto hate this room? Tell me._

"It's okay," he said half-resignedly, believing himself to have already said too much. But after all, wasn't she the chosen one of Seto's heart?

The two of them did not move, looking at the room without really seeing.

"It's just…" he sighed.

_Just what? Just talk._

_ Oh, I don't have to know. Besides, this has nothing to do with me._

_ No! – tell me, Mokuba._

She turned to face him, fear being replaced with a keen interest in the matter at hand.

"We spent a little bit of time at the orphanage when our parents died. I wasn't seven yet and Seto was eleven. Then… he showed up one day."

A painful memory. He seemed lost in the world of memories. He had to push himself to say anything further.

"Gozaburo. Kaiba. The man this house – and KaibaCorp, of course – belonged to. He was a very severe and authoritarian man. In reality, he was an egotistical monster devoid of heart. But we couldn't have known that. We were just happy that we didn't have to be separated. That was the most important thing for us. We were together, just like our parents would have wanted. As soon as we got to this house, Gozaburo pulled Seto apart. He soon learned of my brother's extraordinary capabilities. That was what interested him; he was looking for an heir to his company and his life's work."

Bitterness was seeping out of him. Although the worst was yet to come, each word seemed to weigh even more on his chest.

_What did he do to you? Tell me, Mokuba. What did he do to Seto?_

She stayed silent with concern, hardly daring to breathe and interrupt the young man. Even her throat was constricted.

"Yeah – the only thing he really wanted was to make a perfect copy of himself in younger form. So right off the bat he imposed a panoply of private tutors on my brother to shove everything that he would need to know down his throat to become the perfect businessman – informed, ingenious, and most of all, pitiless. Math, geography, English, programming, physics, chemistry, political science… who knows what else. Nothing was lacking in his education. All Seto did day and night was study and study. There was even a majordomo to watch over him to make sure he didn't slack off – he had a heart of steel. My brother slept very little and very rarely. As soon as he had the liberty of closing his eyes, on the brink of exhaustion, he would be roughly awoken to prepare for the next class. He became a machine."

As if he had to take a breather, Mokuba gave her a half-hearted smile.

"That's where he learned to sleep with only one eye closed."

Then he went right back to his nightmarish past.

"He was a true tyrant. But he succeeded in making my brother a being apart, as pitiless as he was, at least in business. Seto was forced to obey him. Gozaburo held him in the palm of his hand, threatening to split us or send us back to the orphanage if he became dissatisfied. My brother had no choice. He worked so hard."

Naomi's heartbeat had become rare inside of her chest; she had frozen down to the bone.

"The sad thing is that as soon as we first walked into this house, Seto was never the same again. He lost a lot of himself as he grew older. He never again touched a toy. He even forgot what it was like to smile or have fun. And that's how he ended up the way he is."

_I hate this house. Now I know why._

"If my brother hates this place so much, it is because all of those wretched hours and years of superhuman effort took place in this room."

Naomi fought bravely to hide her shivering. She was both awestruck, and angered, at the same time.

No child on Earth deserved to be treated so harshly.

Now she understood what was hidden underneath the invincible mask of Seto Kaiba.

It was whence came his power, his assurance. Also his cruelty, in turn, that his enemies had to face. It was a way of life for him, a program designed to block and foresee any blow against him.

Gozaburo had made the ultimate weapon of war out of him, armored against even warmth. And Seto had paid the price.

However, now she regretted knowing this. Not every truth is sweet.

An implacable disgust planted itself inside of her mouth. She was paralyzed by the violence of such hatred.

A very loud noise rattled the room.

The book had slipped from her hand and fallen to the ground.

But she didn't bend down to pick it up. She wasn't even going to touch it.

"Oh, wait, I'll get it," Mokuba said as he bent to pick it up. "Here."

But she had finally gone to continue along her way to finally leaving the room.

"I changed my mind," she whispered.

Mokuba had no trouble realizing that the story had profoundly affected her. How much so, he couldn't say. But she was very moved.

_Why? Why do I have to know? It was already hard enough. What did you think it could have been, Naomi?_

"Wait, Naomi," Mokuba called after her who nearly ran after her despite her speed being impeded by her bad leg. "I wanted to warn you… that…"

He seemed frightened now that he was doing his characteristic babbling.

"Pretend like you don't know anything, okay? I mean… Seto will hate me for telling you. You get it?"

She didn't doubt the proposal for an instant. She was also sure that it wasn't a topic that Kaiba would appreciate too highly.

"Okay," she mumbled, lowering her eyes.

_Let me go now._

Sadness had evolved into anger.

_Why? Why did you tell me, then? I didn't want to know._

_ Yes, you did. In the end, nobody truly understands Seto Kaiba. And you thought, even for a moment, that you could be an exception? You wanted to, Naomi. Be honest with yourself. You just didn't like what you heard._

_ Grr… yeah, maybe. Just maybe._

She was revisiting the memory of the men in the hotel passageway as they rued the day they met that cruel, intractable being. All she could remember was hearing the pain. Apparently, she found solace in none of them. And it had nothing to do with their mouths, which had been vomiting and puking on her person in profusion. She remembered that they had found a malicious pleasure in doing so - a sweet revenge to spit upon her.

No. Nobody cared if _he_ had a past, or memories that were that painful. Nobody had even bothered to think that his life might not be easy. She had even believed in it partly, once, when she was a member of the teeming masses.

Doesn't the majority override the minority?

Thus it all squashed the most severe of critics.

Nobody knew Seto Kaiba – that much was obvious. It suddenly occurred to her. Seto was a man apart – a good man, too direct perhaps, loyal. But nobody could accuse him of being a hypocrite. He was a strong, powerful man. Prideful, vain like a peacock. Surely. But he had every right to be. And moreover… he was a pure and magnificent being, a true being. Doubtlessly radical. Without any limits. Yet magnificent.

It was just that nobody knew that. Except for Mokuba. And her, now.

She thus became the keeper of his intimate secrets. At least in part. And what she took from that, day after day, gave her the impression of being a privileged individual. Even if she was just a sidekick. If he still seemed invulnerable, she understood now that it was merely a question of appearances.

But what was still left beneath that carapace?

_Grr… you have to go back. You know it. That's enough. Seto hasn't suffered in a long time. He's a big boy – he can fend for himself._

_ Yes, I know, but-_

_ But what? Just admit it frankly. That hurt _you_, didn't it?_

_Why would that hurt me? It's _his _life. I've had enough of my own. He's moved on. So have I. He got through it fine._

She sighed.

_That hurt you._

_ No._

_ You _like _him! Admit that you love – _

_ Shut up!_

"Nao, are you okay?"

Mokuba was worried with her long period of silence. She had just been thinking quite deeply. Unfortunately there was no way to guess what exactly had been passing through her rather small head.

"Oh, I also wanted to thank you."

"Why?" she asked, emerging from her thoughts.

"Well… you know…"

"Oh!" she said a smile swept across her face. "Everything went as planned, I hope?"

Given the red tinge that his face donned before her, she wasn't beyond understanding that everything had probably gone beyond his wildest expectations.

"Even better. I'm so happy."

"Thanks a bunch. I owe you one."

"Absolutely not. I'm very happy for you."

All of a sudden Mokuba hugged her, even having the audacity to kiss her forehead. It was the first time that he had been so forward.

"I love you a lot, Nao. I just wanted you to know."

It seemed as if they were dancing in the middle of the corridor, Mokuba trying to hug her tighter and Naomi trying to defend herself, with both trying not to show exactly what they were trying to do.

It wasn't the effusion of emotion which irritated her. It was, instead, the detestable impression that she had that she couldn't return his feelings. There was a certain gap.

"Did I miss something?" Kaiba asked, who had been observing them for several seconds, arms crossed, eyebrows high.

If it hadn't been Mokuba he would have doubtlessly been enraged by the amount of 'familiarity'. In fact he didn't feel jealous at all.

Mokuba leapt up as he tore himself away from Naomi, very embarrassed to have been caught in the act.

"No… of course not! What do you mean by that?"

Naomi, on the other hand, had lightly bowed her head and smiled, amused by Mokuba's puerile reaction.

Again a shiver ran through her once she felt Kaiba's eyes watching her.

"I'll handle this," he said in a stroke. "Allow me."

"What? Er… yeah, of course…" Mokuba babbled again, trying to back away from Naomi.

_This isn't too clear, is it? _Kaiba thought as he stopped himself from laughing at his little brother. _Let's see._

"May I ask where you were?" he asked in a very imperative tone as he approached them, eyes razor-sharp.

"Er…" Mokuba stuttered, apparently not yet recovered from the shock. "In the library."

Naomi saw a momentary wave of surprise in Kaiba's eyes, who had to clench his fists to maintain his marble composure.

"She… she wanted something to read."

"Didn't you find anything?" he asked, confused by the fact she was not holding a book in her hands. "Nothing interested you?"

"No," she breathed, fighting to hold back her raging emotions.

_Except for you._

"Well, I'm outta here," Mokuba said quickly, wanting no further pretext to be further probed.

The two of them watch him leave.

"Dinner has already been served," he said, as if looking for an excuse for having disturbed them.

"Alright."

Being as close as he was, he couldn't miss the black shadow which was darkening Naomi's face. She was very tacit, despite the smiling. Something was bothering her. Again.

He had hardly dared to admit to her that he knew the truth. And as he did not find the courage to do so, he just had to make do. But it didn't go without troubling him to some degree.

Everything was so difficult, so delicate.

That's why he chose to respect the silence which sometimes floated alongside her.

"Can I ask you something?" she asked suddenly as they were making their way to the dining room.

"Yes," he replied immediately.

"I'd like to go outside."

"What?"

"Yeah. I'd like to go get some fresh air. For a few minutes at least. I need it."

_Need it? Why? What happened since we left the kitchen this morning?_

Kaiba wasn't about to directly ask her. But it took a lot of effort to hide from her the enormous question mark planted in the middle of his bosom.

"It's snowing. It's so wonderful out there. I love snow," she continued, her mind more focused on Mokuba's declarations.

Now that she had every reason to loathe this mansion, it was become even more insupportable to stay here.

_Really? Is that the only reason, Naomi?_

"I'd really like to go outside."

_That's it. I have nothing to hide. Don't even try._

But to her surprise, Kaiba showed no hesitation.

"Of course."

It was very nice outside – only a coat would have sufficed to guard her against the cold. But Kaiba insisted, under the auspices of her recovery, that she also wear a wool pullover.

He was so considerate, so careful.

"Just a few minutes, right?" he asked.

Naomi had already drifted into her thoughts, eyes closed, head tilted towards the sky. She breathed in long breaths despite the fact that pain raked her sides as she did so. It didn't matter to her anymore. She had to fill the emptiness. Escape the long days locked inside, trying to even sit up, discovering things that should just remain secrets.

She had to leave. She knew it well.

But… everything was holding her back, now.

The impenetrable silence could not last.

It was she that broke it after several minutes standing near the entryway.

She looked at the sky again, calm and tranquil, as if peace had finally chosen to come home to the depths of her soul.

"Do you love life, Seto? Are you happy?"

* * *

* This reminded me a _lot _of the ending chapter(s) of Coffee Girl. Which isn't a bad thing. Actually, the library scene in this chapter also reminds me of a fanfic I found online, but I think at this point it's nostalgia for October/November, when I last had energy. :/


	16. Chapter 16

This story -original French title _Apparences - _ belongs to Melzart, and Yu-Gi-Oh! is copyrighted to Kazuki Takahashi.

* * *

Chapter 16

_Confessions_

She was escaping already. So early.

Too early.

Nothing had really changed in her behavior towards him. Especially not when he thought about their volcanic feelings for each other – their bodies could not lie when they fused under the layers of sheets that covered his bed. The same sheets that henceforth were impregnated with Naomi's delicious fragrance. The one that made him raving mad, the one against which there was no hope of rebelling. Her body had become the sole idol that he venerated, when beforehand had believed himself to be a staunch atheist. There wasn't a day that he thought any differently.

There was not an hour, nay a minute, that went by with peace in his heart before he dreamt desperately of her.

It was shameful, a weakness, at every moment, and he was perfectly aware of that. It was just that he was the only guardian of that secret, hidden where nobody risked to attack or place their efforts in uncovering. However, every moment he battled against the kindness that disproportionally filled his heart and mind. It was terrifying if he thought about it, even making feel dazed with vertigo. Terrifying to feel such euphoria to such a totally irrational add-on to his life.

But after the difficult times of combat and fury, he felt himself to be sufficiently strong enough to forget the new invasion into his heart; he excelled in hoping that she wasn't there, that she didn't exist: that nothing had happened. That he hated when she toyed with him, doing as she pleased. Anything to get it over with so his monotone existence could make logical sense again, firm, reasonable.

In vain. She appeared before him again, and once again everything shattered. His eyes were blinded by the sweetness, the voluptuousness. Uselessly, he kept on fighting to keep control of his body and cease the furious shaking. But what good would that ever do? The war had been lost from the outset because every tender shiver whispered into his ear won its battle, and he fell back into the delights of her warmth.

Seto Kaiba had become a slave to his own passion.

_Do you love life, Seto? Are you happy?_

Although he would normally take offense at such impertinence, he had not grit his teeth; no storm had come from the sky to crash down around them. No tempest had arrived to thrust her into his whirlwind.

Nothing. There was barely a curling of the lips. He hadn't smiled, nor shouted, or even responded. Even if he knew the response perfectly well. Even if he still wouldn't admit it.

Did he like his life? Was he now completely and utterly satisfied?

Silence.

There was evidence that Naomi was already demonstrating a growing sense of autonomy. Dangerous, a precursor to a fragile and uncertain future.

A future which didn't seem so far away before.

Every day saw her efforts rewarded in fighting to advance even a foot further on the hard road to recovery. And at each step, she found more strength, diminishing in part the convalescence once destined to last. Yes. She was now squelching all predictions, including Kaiba's. Every day a new surprise was waiting for him when he stepped back over the threshold of his residence; that very morning Naomi had returned from a short walk under Mokuba's watchful eye, who had risen quite early to help her along. So it was that she was no longer relegated to taking baby steps in the immense hallways – he had to now run through the large outside paths, which he thought almost undoable, and full of dangers.

Since the day after Christmas, she had begun her routine of diverse physical exercises in order to strengthen the muscles in her leg. It was as practical as it was beneficial because she hardly limped anymore. It was if she had begun to run, surpassing her strengths, her boundaries.

She was slipping between his fingers, voluntarily a little further each time.

Honestly, Kaiba expected nothing less from her. He wouldn't permit himself to tell her that he was proud of her and that he had guessed, from the very first minute, that she was carved from the same stone that he was. But it was true that this exact moment that he was dreading most. It wasn't that she'd fall and wound herself further.

What he feared most, quite egotistically, was that she was recovering as quickly as she was.

Although he felt anger and frustration upon seeing her evade his vigilance, he couldn't deny the constant admiration that he felt for her.

But he was no fool before her pale smiles interspersed with long periods of silence; although Naomi was calm on the outside, every day he could feel the animosity that was preying upon her.

Definitively, the moment was approaching where he would have to put his plan into action.

Everything was in place; all that was needed was for the actors to take their places. Because he understood too well that she wouldn't leave him a choice.

But what about Mokuba?

He, too, had been a source of worry; although Seto kept himself (against his well) from full-out spying on him, he was horrid at trying to explain his excessive absences, sometimes in the mornings as well as the afternoons. What could he fabricate?

Yes – everything was slipping between his fingers.

It had become imperative that he take charge of his feelings, and seize once more the reins of the future in his hands.

Kaiba turned away from the computer, placed on his immense desk, and, leaning on the arm of his chair, let his eyes lose themselves in the multitude of buildings of the town which unveiled itself beneath his feet. High in this tower, one could believe that nothing could escape his piercing eye. Of course he could see quite far, and far below, miniscule shadows scuttling about. But none of them would have known how to distract him from his true preoccupation. Arms bent with his a fist under his chin, his attention soon deviated to an ice-like statue placed on the sill of the bay window; the perfect crystal effigy of his white dragon. Naomi's gift, which he had brought to his KaibaCorp office.

What could she be doing at this precise moment? Was Mokuba with her? Moreover, when would be the day that he would come home to find that she was no longer there?

The more time that passed, the more paramount it was to him to know whenever she came and left, down to the minute. Because he was certain – time was acting against him.

"Sadi!" he barked into the intercom.

"Yes, sir?"

"I'm going home for the rest of the day."

. . . . . . . . .

"Come on! Please?" Mokuba cried, dragging her by the hand towards the living room.

Mokuba truly had a big heart – overflowing with contagious enthusiasm. Which never failed to make her grin.

"Can't it – "

But he interrupted her on the spot.

"NO! I want you to see my big brother and the band and Yugi… you have to know who they are. You'll see, Seto's a great duelist!"

She was going to object again, but gave up when faced with his over-excited expression.

"Alright, alright. Just let me make a phone call first, okay?"

He acquiesced with no trouble to her condition, as he had just won quite easily. Besides, it allowed him to prepare the video in the meantime.

"Hello, Naomi! You're doing better, I hope?" inquired the voice on the other end of the line, Mrs. Kinoshi, director of the orphanage.

"Yes, thank you," Naomi replied. "Tell me, is everything getting along fine down there? No changes?"

"No, ma'am. Except that the children are very eager to see you again."

Naomi breathed a sigh of relief. Although the worry didn't leave entirely, she felt far more comforted all the same.

"Oh yes, I'm very eager to see them all also," she told her smiling, thinking of all of the small children. "I should come by in a couple of days and start up my normal visitation schedule again."

"Really? So soon? I'm so delighted. And I'm not the only one."

"Thank you. How is Molina?"

"She's very well. It's just that she misses you a lot. She even spoke about you some this morning."

"Great. Try not to spoil the surprise."

"Yes, it'd be my pleasure. You take care."

As soon as she hung up Naomi gave another long sigh of relief. That bad feeling still hadn't left her, and had been there since that one famous morning when she woke up covered in sweat. But contrary to all of her beliefs, nothing had happened which could confirm that nasty omen.

. . . . . . . . .

"Good, okay. This is one of Seto's latest duels," Mokuba said, totally hooked on his brother.

It was completely insane how he could be so proud, be such a fervent admirer, of his older sibling.

"That guy right there, Siegfried, not only was he an idiot but he was also psycho. Remember? He sabotaged KaibaCorp's entire new information system in KaibaLand just to get to Seto. He's really crazy."

"Why did he do that?"

"Well… just guess! He wanted what they all want! Take control of KaibaCorp. Everyone's constantly attacking Seto to wrench it out of his hands. It's crazy. Ever since he's been the head of that company, I 've gotta say he hasn't had much of a break. Yeah, he works really hard. Especially just to keep it. They can't see everything he's accomplished or his merit. They think, incorrectly, that because he's young he's incompetent and an easy victim. You get it? So my brother was always forced to be strong. He has to be feared to be respected. It's a matter of survival."

"It's just that all they see in him is a businessman and the all-powerful CEO of a large company," Naomi replied, filled with a certain compassion and recognizing Kaiba's need to be so brave so often.

"Anyway, he stuck it to Siegfried by humiliating him on international television. He was cruel but hardly did anything. I think he did well. That bastard got what he deserved."

_Bastard? Oh, Mokuba, your bother would really get mad at you for that, remember?_

But Naomi kept this commentary to herself, despite her itch to burst out laughing.

Again, he was caught up in his joy.

"Oh! There's Yugi!"

She recognized the young man with the tri-colored hair that had been at the front door Christmas morning with no problem.

"OH! And there's Joey, his best friend… and Tristan, and Duke… and that's Téa. Téa's really nice. A great gal… WAIT, that's Seto against Ishizu Ishtar!"

_Ishtar? Is – _

The woman that was Kaiba's adversary was dressed like an Egyptian priestess; a long white dress and a veil wrapped around her head. She was swarthy in color, and her very blue eyes shone brilliantly in Kaiba's direction.

"She's the reason Seto made the entire tournament," Mokuba admitted, unconscious of the impact that his words were having.

"Oh," Naomi whispered very quietly as she felt her cheeks redden slightly in agitation.

It was so stupid.

How could it have been possible, naively, to think for a single instant that Kaiba had sat around without absolutely anyone to spend time with before he met her?

How was it humanly possible to imagine that a simple woman would have been capable of resisting his maddening charm and his oceanic eyes, his touch, his will?

Could there reasonably any one woman who would deny having ever felt anything in his presence?

Seto Kaiba was a man. With his wants and wishes. Just like any other human being.

It was idiotic to believe that his life had begun because of her.

Stupid to think that she was the first, the only one, the unique girl to carve a path into his body and his mind.

Completely and surrealistically stupid.

But…

Even though she didn't let him see it in full, Mokuba could still plainly see her reaction which he maladroitely found some sort of pride in doing.

It seemed to him as if she were annoyed, piqued by the affirmation. He knew that her reaction came from the pure domain of her feelings.

He purposefully chose to rid her of the worry.

"Oh," he said, hiding a smile. "It's not what you think it is."

She tilted her head slightly, trying to ward off a sense of boredom.

"But I can't be the judge of that. Your brother's private life has nothing to do with me!"

"Yeah, right, you're his girlfriend, aren't you?"

_His girlfriend?_

"What?"

If she weren't able to control herself she probably would have choked on the profusion of her own thoughts in her surprise.

"Well. I think," he said, this time with some hesitation. It certainly had the appearance of being so to him.

_I… no… well… I… don't know. What a funny idea… so he sees me like that…? _she thought.

A confused silence settled between the two.

"What I was trying to say was that nothing was _going on _between them. It was professional. Seto started up the tournament at her request because she offered him a rare and ultra-powerful card. It was a promise he kept. That's all."

_Am I supposed to be relieved with that?_

_Oh… what am I saying? It still has nothing to do with me anyway. Besides, it's probably been years since… well, it's far behind him._

_You're just jealous._

_No I'm not!_

_ Oh, don't worry, it's not what you think – Moki said it himself, didn't he?_

_ Just shut up! It's none of my business!_

"Naomi?"

_Not my business!_

"Hm?" she replied, emerging from her reverie.

"You understand, right? She was never anything to him. Not even a friend… I guess I didn't really explain that right."

_Grr… you're going to leave me with that?_

_It's none of my business!_

"And I'm going to say again that it's none of my business, Mokuba," she insisted gravely, cutting off the question entirely as if letting go some insupportable weight to drop into the sea.

Strange. Her behavior had changed, hardened up very rapidly.

But he could have sworn that he saw all of the signs of jealousy on her face.

"She did everything she could to knock Seto off balance during that duel," he continued.

_Knock him off balance? How, by wearing a coat?_

_ Just knock it off! Nothing was going on!_

_ Pff… what do I have to do to do that?_

_ It's none of my business, none of my business – _

"Yeah, she pretended that she had the power to see the future and wouldn't stop telling my brother that the end was near. It unnerved Seto so much he began to think it wasn't nonsense. All that stuff was just bullshit. Besides, he beat her anyway."

On the screen, Kaiba was making fun of his adversary with all of the hatred he was humanly capable of mustering, confirming to Naomi that there was no reason to suspect anything. Apparently he was indifferent to her.

But it had all angered her anyway… a fraction of a second –

_It's none of my business! Isn't there anything else on this damned video?_

"Oh yeah, this is the final between Yugi and – " Mokuba was shouting as he fast-forwarded the tape.

Upon seeing Yugi's adversary, Naomi, although relieved that the episode concerning Ishizu was over, had frozen right back up like a statue; her eyes had widened, marking a certain surprise, and her mouth hung open.

He was also quite tanned himself, his eyes like lilac shadows, curiously darkened with rage, his hair ruffled and standing straight up, the color of ivory.

"….Marik," she murmured very quietly, as if remembering something.

"Yeah, that's Marik Ishtar, Ishizu's brother, do you know him?" Mokuba responded immediately, on top of her reactions.

_Earth to Naomi. Come back._

"Hunh?"

"Do you know him?" Mokuba repeated, aware that something was off.

"Er… not really. We met a long time ago," she succeeded in admitting nonchalantly. Besides, there was nothing suspicious about that fact.

"Really?"

This time, she had piqued Mokuba's curiosity.

She had said too much to stop, but not enough to satisfy him.

"Er. Yeah. In Greece," she admitted in good faith, refusing to lie to him and acting as if it were all just natural.

"WHOA! You've been to Greece?"

"Yes. But I was just there for a few weeks."

"Okay, so that's where you met each other?"

_… 'met' ?_

"Er… yeah."

_I don't know why but I think this isn't a really good conversation topic. It does have to do with me this time, after all…_

"I've never been there. What's it like?" Mokuba demanded again.

_Why do I feel like he studies what I tell him? Is he working for his brother or something?_

He certainly wasn't white as snow with innocence.

But it was certain also that he wasn't entirely mal-intentioned. His curiosity pushed him to ask.

"… very, very pretty. And very old, also," she said again, starting to play along.

_Whoa! She knows Marik… I wonder if Seto knows that. Well, it looks like it's a small world after all._

"He wasn't really all that nice during the tournament," he ended up admitting a bit ashamedly.

"How so?"

"Er… well, let's just say he was picking for a fight with the other duelists. Especially Yugi. He also had a really rare card so Seto let him into the tournament because he was counting on winning it from him. It ended up being a difficult time for pretty much everyone."

_Marik? Picking fights?_

_ But that's just not like him._

The way she remembered him, Marik was probably one of the most courteous and respectful men she had ever met. One sole time she had had the opportunity to see his soft expression become tainted by a menacing storm; his fury was so great that she had trembled in fear. She could have sworn that not even a demon from hell could be more frightening. No. Never could she forget that one black glare. But it wasn't addressed to her. On the contrary; he had, in fact, been referring to his own inner demons. He would fight them, if he were able.

So what had happened between the time when they had met and the time of that tournament?

She had first met him when he had quite a large weight on his shoulders, that much she knew for sure, but he had kept silent and respected her own silence. He was a really nice guy.

She again heard the distant echoing of his voice, soft and conciliatory as he murmured to her, admitting:

_I have done things that I am not very proud of… but I have to say that I wasn't entirely myself…_

She had never before sought beyond those words. A sin told is a sin half-forgiven, as the saying goes.

What's more, it was not her that was seeking absolution. He had never done anything to her.

Naomi's eyes never unglued themselves from the screen, riveted on Marik.

_Maybe this is what he was talking about… I don't know._

One thing was for certain; the mostly unpleasant description that she had just heard was nothing like the guy she once knew.

Yet… if she were to trust a combination of hearsay and appearances, wouldn't Kaiba have been the first one she would have forgotten to have ever met?

You have to dig a little on the surface sometimes to find what lays shining beneath.

Same thing for Marik. Didn't he have the right, too, to doubt and to a dash of clemency?

Then again, Seto was frankly impossible to get along with.

It had been horrifying to watch him trample his adversaries and then ridicule them, pushed above all by self-importance and then his insatiable need to win.

Absolutely nothing in common with the man who so tenderly opened his arms for her.

Yet it was exactly the Seto Kaiba she had heard spoken about. She recognized in his videos the bloodthirsty and execrable being of victory, the almost maleficent creature as everyone claimed he was without actually knowing him. To her own eyes, she saw all of the hate, the spite, and disgust which inspired him against these human beings with whom he so rarely socialized.

All of this… to win?

How could she blame him with what she knew now? Wasn't it the greatest lesson that could have been drilled into him, what he must have learned best?

_I hate this house so much._

_ Yes. You do._

Kaiba was giving his opponent, Yugi Motou, a good run for his money. He had summoned a titanic white dragon which she recognized on the spot.

Worse – he couldn't stop taunting the young man in front of him.

Something quite unusual passed across Yugi's face, who, apparently, didn't fear any of Kaiba's antics.

"…Yugi… is he your friend?"

"Yeah. I like Yugi and the gang. Seto doesn't like them though and keeps as far away as possible. Oh well…"

"Why?"

"Pshht. My brother… doesn't go out looking for friends. He's solitary, and gets by fine that way… but I think he likes them, too," he continued, letting a sly grin spread across his face.

"I don't know," she muttered again, unable to keep all of her attention from not focusing on the strange young man with what must have been a multi-colored wig. "There's something… strange about him."

Mokuba was surprised by Naomi's perspicacity. It was true that Yugi was quite bizarre and that was probably a part of his charm, once he thought about it. But he shared Naomi's curiosity, as he paused the tape, freezing on the screen the portrait of the young man.

"Yeah… you're right… I'm gonna tell you something about him. Maybe that'll help you understand more," he admitted with a half-laugh.

Naomi shot a glance at Mokuba, seeing a good joke used in place of a real confession as only a true Kaiba was able – dripping with sarcasm.

But she had to submit to the evidence that Mokuba was not at all interested in making fun of the young champion.

"There's something really weird about him, yeah. Well, lemme try to explain. You see that upside-down pyramid around his neck? Well, that's a puzzle. It's a really really old object which supposedly comes from Egypt. His grandpa found it on some dig with some friends."

"Really?"

Naomi almost salivated at the allusion. Wasn't she love-struck with practically anything having to do with antiquity?

Mokuba was now the center of all of her attention.

"Yeah…" he began again. "Well, apparently there's this really old spirit in the puzzle. It helps Yugi with his every thought… it helps and guides him. That's what his friends say, anyway."

. . . . . . . . .

_"Yes," Marik sighed in a half-smile before the unabashed curiosity of the young woman. "I have to go meet a very old friend. I have a message for him."_

_ She gently returned his smile even though she had no idea what he was talking about._

_ "It's for him," he said again, flicking his head in reference to his back._

_ "Oh, and couldn't you think of anything nicer, like, oh, I don't know, pen and paper?" she wanted to mock him, to lighten the atmosphere._

_ Marik – although a certain serenity visibly enveloped his person – grimaced at the memory of the day when they had "given" him those hieroglyphs._

_ "It's not that simple, Naomi."_

_ Which made her silent, as if she had perfectly guessed the pain that those scars brought back to him. Then she had sighed too loudly, prey to a manifest anger._

_ "He at least understands, right?"_

_ She remained of the opinion that there had to be a more orthodox method of message delivery._

_ She was still gorgeous when she was angry._

_ Marik remained hypnotized by her eyes, filled with shadow._

_ "I don't know. Maybe."_

_ Then he smiled again._

_ "Is he Egyptian?"_

_ She was offended._

_ What sensible human being would find no remorse in tattooing into the skin of a young child? Just to relay a message?_

_ "Yes. He has a very ancient soul," he admitted again, but this time he wasn't sure if she was actually listening._

_ "Ancient soul?"_

_ What?_

. . . . . . . . .

It didn't take Kaiba very long to find their hiding-place. From the entrance hall, he could easily hear the television blaring, and as he stepped closer, their voices.

_That's not true. Mokuba… he didn't dare?_

But there was nothing to be ashamed of. And Kaiba would never have approved of such a sentiment. He knew what he had done, and how he had done it, and he understood why. But coming from a third party, did he have the right to exhort the same comprehension without judging himself too severely and maybe even simply rejection?

What was Naomi going to think about him now that she had discovered his egocentrism in full swing?

_Grr…_

But he would not have the slightest shed of remorse. Whether she understood or not.

"Fine, okay, I get that there are monster cards, spells, traps… and fusions and sacrifices… I get that. But really, Moki, I really don't care beyond that."

"Why? I'm sure you'd become a great duelist! And Seto would have lots of fun playing you, I know it."

"I think Seto has other things to do, don't you think?" she pressed, trying not to laugh at Mokuba's insistence.

At least she was in a good humor – a good sign.

Kaiba couldn't hold back his sigh of relief just before mustering the tiny amount of courage necessary to join them.

So… how long had it been since he had touched even a single card in his deck? Years. More than three, to be precise. Mokuba had those ideas sometimes – so many and so often Kaiba wondered when he would finally grow up.

But his kid brother wasn't the most annoying person he knew, of course. Every day he cherished all of the affection his brother bestowed upon him. It was the most important thing he had.

. . . . . . . . .

Could it just be a simple coincidence?

_How is it possible? Can it be true?_

Naomi stayed silent, as if she were hypnotized by the practically burlesque story, her eyes nailed to the television.

_But… it's true that there's something odd about that kid…_

Marik's voice was again ringing fresh in her ears.

_A very ancient soul._

"Yeah, that's what they say. It seems to be among the many reasons why nobody has ever beaten him in a duel before. And they say that that spirit… what's even more crazy is that it's supposed to be the soul of an ancient pharaoh who lived thousands of years ago."

_A very ancient soul._

_ Was it…?_

"Pff," Kaiba suddenly interrupted, having been listening to them with arms crossed behind the sofa for more than a couple of moments now. "That's all nonsense, Mokuba. The truth is, Yugi has some sort of very debilitating multiple personality disorder. I even offered him a psychologist's services once."

Naomi had flinched at his approach, having been exclusively focused on Mokuba recount the quite bizarre story.

"But Seto…" Mokuba whined.

"Mokuba, don't tell me that they managed to brainwash my little brother."

"Er…. of course not! Why – "

"Be quiet," Kaiba cut him off playfully.

_Don't stop. There _is _something strange about him._

_ Not everything is in black and white…_

Naomi kept her gaze on the screen for another long moment.

There are irrational and immaterial things that cannot be explained. But knowing which are true and which are not – voila what was the most difficult to comprehend.

Of course, for Kaiba there was no question at all because if it couldn't be explained it didn't exist and had no reason to be discussed. Everything was orderly in his mind – well, almost everything. The only thing he allowed himself to doubt, to be a novice in, consisted of the sentiments he felt for the woman currently seated on the couch. It was concrete, but immaterial. It couldn't be explained. But it was true.

But for Naomi, there were zones of gray between the white and the black. Maybe between the true and the false. A large open door between the real and the inconceivable. Souls wandering between fantasy and reality.

Nothing is absolutely a truth or a lie. There exist shades between them. Even air is best at a temperature between sweltering and polar cold.

Not everything is apparent, or can be heard, or can be said.

Nothing is exactly what it seems.

"That's enough, Mokuba. I think Naomi's seen enough – and stop trying to fill her mind with all that crap."

"But, Seto," he wanted to respond. Yet faced with his brother's annoyed glare, his mouth shut as soon as it had opened.

Naomi easily detected a note of irritation in Kaiba's voice. There was even a hint of worry.

But why?

Sure, she had had plenty of time to see what he was capable of.

She hadn't made any comment on the matter, however.

Even her voice did not quaver when it addressed him.

Kaiba felt reassured.

The way she looked at him did not differ from her normal tender look.

In a way, he knew, she understood.

. . . . . . . . .

"Mind telling me where you're going, young man?" asked Kaiba, addressing his little brother who had went to put on a coat in the entrance hall. "I thought we were going to spend a little time together. I would have liked that."

Mokuba felt deeply remorseful upon seeing the slightly disappointed face of his older sibling.

"Oh," he said. "Sorry, Seto. But I made a promise and I have to keep it."

_A promise? To whom? Tell me, Mokuba. You know you can tell me anything, right?_

"And that requires you to leave?"

"Er, yeah. Sorry."

He noticed Kaiba's curious eyes.

"I can't talk to you about it right now."

_Can't talk to me about it? What's that supposed to mean?_

Kaiba took a step back in a half-stagger. He quickly regained control of himself, however. He would never look weak or hesitant in front of his little brother.

"You know that I always find out the truth, Mokuba."

The comment, formulated with the greatest of veracity, made a mocking smile appear on Mokuba's lips.

"Er… yeah, I know, big brother."

"So… you still won't tell me what you're up to these days?"

Seto knew how to act so perspicacious that it became almost irritating. Mokuba would never want to become his enemy.

"No. I'm really sorry, Seto, but I made a promise."

Kaiba was crazily proud of his younger brother. If there was just one person in the world who understood the full meaning of the word _promise_, it would definitely be him.

That's what stopped his investigation from moving further along. The respect that the word entailed sufficed for him.

Although Mokuba had nothing to fear from his actions, he wasn't about to stop him.

"Very well," he said.

_I am so proud of you, little brother. Do what you must, then._

"Kiss Naomi for me, 'kay?"

In one gesture he swung open the door and swung across the mantle when he suddenly stopped.

"Oh, by the way, Seto…"

"Hm?"

Kaiba turned back towards him, totally attentive.

"Did you know that Naomi know Marik… Ishtar? Were you aware?"

Kaiba could barely prevent a bitter and furious roar from bursting out of him. Little was stopping him from recoiling into the back wall and melting into it. No, he did not know.

"What?"

The shock – brutal, unexpected.

_Uh… I guess I shouldn't have mentioned it…_

Kaiba's reaction made Mokuba sincerely regret having opened his mouth.

It was like a concrete block had fallen on top of his head, and it couldn't have had a bigger impact.

_What?_

Kaiba's face was flooded with so many emotions that Mokuba doubt that he could remember the order in which they came. Everything that had happened - the anger and deception, boredom and worry, rage and uncertainty. Anything that was humanly dislikable.

He even had the time to see the same face become almost scarlet before finding its normal white tinge again.

Seto was raked with a profound irritation. So much so that he thought for a second he'd stop breathing.

Just like that.

Again he could feel his brother's power – Kaiba had rapidly chased away all envenomed demonstration of his fury to recover once more his expression eternally devoid of emotions. Pure impassability.

However, Mokuba knew. Kaiba wanted to know.

"…apparently, they met in Greece a few years ago…"

_Grr… Ishtar? No! It's not possible._

Kaiba looked away, preferring instead to see what was beyond the windowpane.

He had to fight to hide what was animating him now.

"It's possible," he said in a falsely indifferent tone, "that Naomi could have travelled widely, I believe."

Of course she had travelled. But where, and with whom, was none of his business. But…

Indifferent?

He was anything but.

_Grr… did he…? No. Naomi? And him? Grr… did they…?_

_ No. Anything but that._

_ You weren't there, Kaiba._

_ Exactly! And I shouldn't know! No! I DON'T WANT TO KNOW!_

_ If this was about somebody else, that would be true. Admit that you're dying to – _

_ Grr… this can't be true._

_ Curious? You SHOULD know._

_ No!_

_ This has nothing to do with me… besides, it's been years…_

_ GRR!_

_ What's the matter with me?_

_ I'm going to kill him._

_ GRR!_

Wham. Boom - Demolish.

Kaiba felt his fists clench hard, as if they were hunting for a target to tear to shreds.

_Wow… this really isn't good. I guess I should just scram._

Mokuba was not quite proud of himself at that exact moment. He knew that he had accidentally added fuel to the flames.

_Maybe it's not so bad, after all._

At the same time, it was just so comical.

He had never before seen his brother react so quickly and violently to a simple inconsequential fact, true. Seto couldn't hope to be unrivalled _and _the only one Naomi had ever liked.

Or maybe he didn't know that he was the first?

What could anger him this badly?

Wasn't what he was vainly hiding just some sort of jealousy crisis?

Yes. Now that he thought it over, it was amusing to watch them turn in circles looking and pushing and having all the trouble in the world in finding each other.

As soon as he had closed the door behind him, Mokuba let a happy smile cross his face at the thought that maybe those two people, too wrapped up, probably lacked the words to establish what most people called a 'heart-to-heart'.

So he was going to give them the ideal pretext at least.

He was about to pass underneath the gate when again he stopped in his tracks, this time to stop himself from laughing at the crazy idea that crossed his mind.

_Maybe I went a little too far. Seto really wasn't happy…_

_ I hope everything works out okay._

_ What if they fight, and it's _my _fault?_

_ Argh! No, no. Seto likes her. I know it. He wouldn't dare._

_ Boohoo. I'm such a little monster!_

_ Besides – I'm no longer home!_


	17. Chapter 17

This story belongs to its original author, Melzart; and the Yu-Gi-Oh! franchise belongs to Kazuki Takahashi.

* * *

Chapter 17

_The Time of Innocence_

_Part I_

_Those eyes boring into the nape of his neck. An intruder, too._

_He had had all the time he needed to deal with it. But the truth was that he still was not used to it; he was scared of all of those pairs of eyes riveting themselves into his body, waiting, scrutinizing the strange symbols encrusted into his flesh shamelessly with the tips of their fingers. The onlookers falsely believed that he was some ornament of the pure, or worse, of fantasy. All that they saw in the relief was an artistic apex, a proud exhibition of human capability brought to excess._

_ Oh, how they were wrong. Did they wonder, for even a moment, about that eternal moment of suffering and extreme terror that the process had cruelly inflicted upon him?_

_ It was all just drama. As soon as he uncovered his back, the curious stuck to him without respite, like hummingbirds trying to pollinate a flower grove._

_ And it was crazy how he felt inside of him a terrific fever, an oppressive rage at the only thought._

_ He would never forget the pain._

_ But he was free now. And he had paid dearly for this freedom; keeper of a thousand-year secret, passed on for centuries in his family – he was the latest to bear the message. He had delivered the message to whom it belonged – not without pain and torment. But his work was done._

_ Before the young man's impatience, a friend, much larger than he was, came to his defense by politely distancing him from all of those curious about his back. He was tall, a skin a crispy olive, and he had no hair. On the other hand, he bore a particular tattoo which extended across one side of his face, from the top of his head to his chin._

_ "Please step back," he insisted, pushing back their hands._

_ "Grr…" grumbled the young man seated upon the ancient stone slab._

_ He had chosen this morsel of rock, newly found, to rest for a few moments. When he could, he adored exploring ancient ruins, taking a tour of their depths. It was a family trait. In his family, everyone shared an innate love for old things, sacred things, things from humanity's past._

_ Under the hot Greek sun in the heart of Knossos, he had given himself up to the heat, and, of course, taken off his shirt. Which stirred up a party of tourists which had been walking around this magnificent Cretan palace, which was over four thousand years old. Water ran over his body, feeling as dusty as the fine sand._

_ He had just finished dabbing his face when a hand delicately placed itself on his naked shoulder._

_ "Grr… when are those buffoons going to give up…"_

_ His eyebrows creased, denoting major annoyance at the impromptu derangement._

_ "Excuse me," spoke a breeze sweet to his ear._

_ In one movement he whipped around to chase away the individual who dared to disturb him, stop them from bothering him, convinced that their only interest resided in his immense corporal graffiti._

_ But the person that he found made him keel over and fall backwards onto the ground._

_ It was a young woman, maybe twenty years old, dressed in a simple black dress and sandals. But that face, so pure and beautiful, immediately became lodged in his brain, with long brown hair wrapping around her head – her locks, blown about by the wind, caressed her cheeks. And those eyes, almost black, but more clear than a thousand suns, reflecting his own image right back towards him._

_ "Oh, I'm sorry, I made you fall," she excused herself timidly, offering him her hands so that he could sit back up._

_ He did not push them away, but he did not touch them, almost afraid of soiling them. Instead of standing, he threw himself to his knees, bending over to praise her as if venerating a god._

_ "It was just so that I could sit at your feet," he breathed, giving her a quick glance and then bowing his head again. In a very chivalrous manner he placed his hand upon his heart. "I am your humble servant, oh, Goddess."_

_ The tall man in the white tunic who served as his friend and traveling companion had rushed towards him upon seeing him fall. But he maintained a certain distance once he understood that his friend's heart was no longer melting due to one sun alone._

_ He admired the scene from afar._

_ The young woman flinched as well as backed up a step, trembling slightly, not knowing whether she should take his response as coming from a psychopath or a confession coming directly from the heart._

_ No matter what it was, she blushed furiously, the words probably being amongst the most courteous that she had ever been addressed with._

_ The young man, whose eyes still had not left that dream of a vision, stood carefully, as if fearing that too quick a movement would chase away the mirage in the corner of his eye._

_ But she was obligated to regain her countenance before this complete stranger who perhaps didn't even mean to intimidate her. Things like this were done very frequently for tourists._

_ "I see," she said with an amused grin. "Is it the fact that you're in the country of Homer doing this to you?"_

_ "It's because she's beautiful."_

_ "Alas, what could a poor mortal do, failing even the gods, before the eternal beauty of a Goddess and her will?"_

_ Delicately, he took her hand in his and brought it up to his lips, kissing it gallantly._

_ "Tell me, Aphrodite, what are you desires? I shall fulfill them."_

_ Even more uneasy, she turned her eyes away. She seemed more irritated than touched to hear such words, as honey-coated as they were._

_ She appeared moreover to be taken aback, a fact he quickly took into consideration._

_ "Please excuse me. I didn't mean to disturb you," she said again as she pulled back her hand._

Disturb me? What a crazy idea… but… say something!...

"_Wait!" he finally managed to call out as she turned to leave him._

_ It was his turn to be distraught. The moment he was living in was so perfect, he could have wished in that instant for it to become interminable._

_ "May I ask what you are looking for? If I may be useful," he asked, hoping to hold her back._

_ "My name is Marik. Ishtar. And this is my brother, Odion," he continued, sweeping his arm towards him in a signal that meant he should approach._

_ She bowed slightly towards the two of them._

_ "My name is Naomi D__é__ziel."_

_ "I am enchanted to make your acquaintance, madame."_

It's a pure delight to the eyes and to the heart.

_"How could I be of service?"_

_ "I'm looking for a guide. Well… I'd like to find one."_

_ Without even glancing at Odion for permission, he hurried to respond:_

_ "It's okay – in fact, if it were not just to watch over your person, it would be more wise for you to be accompanied, madame. Places are not always very secure."_

_ Naomi's expression spoke for itself._

_ "And you happen to be a guide?"_

_ "In reality I am more of an archeologist than a guide. But I know the surroundings well enough. It would give me great pleasure to counsel you about the numerous historical and mythological sites of Greece. If you should so desire, naturally."_

_ She remained hesitant, moving her eyes between her interlocutor and Odion, who was giving her a very kind smile but whose attitude was more focused upon worrying about his companion's behavior._

_ "Oh, and while we're on the subject," Marik recommended upon being struck with the idea, "how would you like excavating a bit?"_

_ Naomi's reaction was prompt as she turned to face him again, her eyes dancing with an enormous surprise._

_ "Oh, yes!" she claimed spontaneously._

_ As if she took notice of her overly-enthusiastic approach, she hurried to restrain herself._

_ "I would really like that," she whispered, her voice suggesting her floating back to the ground._

_ "Unless I am mistaken, you must like history," he asked._

_ "Enormously," she responded, her eyes sparkling animatedly even though she was doing everything possible to stop herself from overextending her happiness._

_ "I as well," he admitted unashamedly, encouraging her with a frank smile. "I already have many places in mind that I am sure will dazzle you."_

_ "Really?"_

_ "Come sit down closer to me, I am sure you will not regret it…" he said with a conquering grin and wiping the dust off of the stone beside him for her to sit upon whilst Odion walked away, fervently stunned by Marik's fervent interest._

. . . . . . . . .

Kaiba stood motionless for a long moment before the entryway, even after Mokuba had gone; his fists had not yet unclenched and his face, purple with a ferocious hatred, was frozen as glass. But his eyes were trained beyond the window as if looking for a past which was not his own but which persisted in become integral to his existence.

Time had frozen in his cramped vestibule.

"Is something wrong, sir?"

Marie's voice sounded like a far-off, inaudible echo.

_What happened with Marik? Did they… yes or no?...!_

_ Kaiba! Enough! It's none of your business._

_ Did he…dare…place… his…fingers…on…_

_ Stop it! What the hell is bothering you? You know full well that you're not the first man in her life. It's absurd to think that before you… you knew it, didn't you? So why do you ask so many damned questions?_

_ Besides, you said it yourself: it was _before _you. You weren't there. The rest isn't important and doesn't concern you._

_ NOW it does!_

No way to escape that conscience which endlessly plagued him.

_GRR! Won't you just shut the fuck up?_

_ Pff!... admit it, it's agony to try to visualize somebody other than you between her thighs, isn't it, Kaiba? You thought that territory was exclusive to you, didn't you?_

_ GRR!_

Marie stepped backwards, horrified by the very guttural and deep snarl that had come from Kaiba's mouth.

_What's bugging you so much? Oh, _I _know, it's because until now you couldn't put anybody's face to those men until Marik Ishtar. Now it's different because you can, isn't it, Kaiba?_

"Sir?" Marie dared to ask again, completely frozen in fright before his face clouded with an invisible storm.

_There's only one way to find out, Kaiba._

Marie gave up as she faced the glacial silence when she saw him finally react by turning his gaze towards the stairs.

In a quick and brisk stride, he skipped over the first step of the stair which led directly to the third floor.

. . . . . . . . .

They were all in a line – each one beside the other, legs moving fast and fists in front of them at chest level. In occasional moments they let out short cries that were synchronized with their movements. All of them dressed in the same white kimono. Only the color of their belts tied tight around their waists differentiated them.

It had been over a week since Mokuba had begun his training, with Naomi's advice. He still didn't find it particularly fun, feeling instead more maladroit as he went to follow orders. But nothing was more normal when was a Kaiba and one is more used to ordering about. Seto might develop an ulcer if he ever found out.

He thus doubted the training would seriously help him.

But he had promised. Promised to be assiduous, promised to at least try.

Unfortunately, a reputation that was not his own had preceded him; he already had enemies, despite his best intentions. The worst of them had arranged it so that he was always nearby during classes. Which certainly wasn't very agreeable. Keenu was a tall, beefy young man of the same age, who easily rose over Mokuba by at least a head. He was sure he was the kind of guy who loved letting loose on the little ones.

But he still hadn't succeeded in cornering Mokuba, him being primarily more speedy and more clever and also because he was constantly accompanied by the chauffeur for his limo, held in back secretly.

"Hey, snob-ette!" Keenu shot at him quietly as soon as the professor had turned away from them for the moment. "I'll catch you when you leave, you rich little – "

"Ugh, leave me alone, you fat brute," Mokuba retorted, his patience waning.

It had been more than a week since he had last fallen for one of his pranks, and he had ceased speaking to him.

"What if I don't? Is big brother going to come defend you? _Ohhh_, I'm _so _scared!" he dared to prod.

_Pssht. He'd hardly have to exert himself on you. But okay, whatever, I'm sorry for you._

A malicious smile had come across Mokuba's face at the sole thought.

He must not know Seto that well, in order to mock him with that much flippancy.

_Oh… I wonder how things would go… _

"OW!" Mokuba cried as he was yanked from his thoughts as a pain shot through his left calf. He lost his balance and found himself on the ground. Keenu had deliberately pulled hard on his lower leg.

His fall brought about a stopping point in the course and aroused the pronounced interest of the teacher.

"Kaiba!" he called.

"Yes, sensei?"

"You are bothering your classmates."

Mokuba became equally incensed over this as well.

"What? No, it's not-… I- "

"Enough!" shouted the teacher with a most severe look. "Give me twenty-five, now!"

"But I – "

"One more word out of that mouth and you'll give me fifty!"

Mokuba quickly shut his mouth. He didn't know quite what the professor was playing at but he certainly wasn't aware of the truth.

_Grr… he's gonna pay for that! _he thought of Keenu. Not physically because Mokuba was fully aware that his adversary had been taking courses for several months, unlike himself. But by mind, he had every chance in the world. It just was a matter of how.

He was definitely going to find a way to unravel that little smug of victory.

. . . . . . . . .

Enveloped entirely in a more tenebrous shadow, Kaiba was approaching his bedroom door.

All along the way he had chosen to take, the rage in his spirit had made him tremble. If it were that this… Ishtar found himself fixedly before him, he would have for a long time now been cut into tiny slices and tossed in the trash can.

His hand, which shook as it neared the doorknob, suddenly froze upon it.

_Kaiba. STOP!_

His fucking conscience, the same damned one that had made him so cold and shoved him upstairs, was now telling him to stop.

_What?_

Nobody was going to stand up in his way in his quest to learn the truth. Screw the consequences.

His fingers tightened around the knob, this time ready to push.

_SHE'S GOING TO LEAVE, KAIBA!_

As if suddenly struck by a powerful electronic discharge, his fingers flew away from the handle. Even his heartbeats had ceased, like his brain had just disconnected itself from the rest of his body.

_Is this what you want, Kaiba? Fine!_

_You finally have the chance to end this once and for all, to get back your dull and insipid life. Throw her far out of sight, from your thoughts and from your arms. Well go ahead! Walk right in! It's what you want, Kaiba, isn't it?_

But…

He was behaving like the perfect imbecile.

But what could be going through his head? What had left him in such a state? What had happened between when Mokuba left and that precise moment in time where his fingers actually shivered when they wanted to grab a fucking doorknob?

A moment of craziness – pure amnesia? He didn't even know.

_You're dying of jealousy, Kaiba._

_ That's ABSURD!_

A Kaiba is never jealous – he already has everything he could ever want.

_You think? So, why are you waiting to enter that room – _your _room, Kaiba? Drive her away from your home. You're the boss. Go! Go in and do your stuff!_

In a mechanical yet voluntary gesture, stripped of all aggression, Seto Kaiba finally pushed open the door to his room.

. . . . . . . . .

_Marik had had no problem in establishing an itinerary which could last a thousand and one nights. He had pressed himself to visit the entirety of Greece; they left Knossos, then gone north, passing by Santorin and Rhodes, then pushed on up to Troy. They then again followed the coast of the Aegean Sea in the opposite direction, passing through town after town, principally via boat. It was amazing, just like he had promised. But her marveling was multiplied by the sole presence of this man imprinted with a disarming sweetness._

_ Of course he himself wasn't entirely disinterested, either, although a lot of things required him to push his knowledge despite the circumstances; he felt with little pain a great emotional trouble wracking her. A disequilibrium caused by extreme suffering. Because that's what she was – suffering. He could feel it in his own skin, and didn't have to do anything but catch sight of her silhouette to perceive a sort of omnipresence. He didn't know what and didn't dare, quite respectfully, to look after it for her. But he was persuaded that a wide abyss was spread across her heart._

_ However, patiently, he waited until she confided in him, because she did not seem to find a friend in him, which was an extra defect. Couldn't she realize that beyond his friendship – which he offered unconditionally anyway – propagated a desire that was so much stronger?_

_ "There," he said as he leaned over her shoulder. "That's good – put your side into the trowel, caress the ground. Softly lift the earth now…"_

_ "Like this?" she asked, performing the task._

_ Marik had chosen a little quiet place south of some old Athenian ruins to engage in a little archeological exercise. He had made an enormous rectangle in the ground. The two were now kneeling down in the hopes of finding a fresco or some other ancient object._

_ "Wait, let me show you," he said again, bending close enough to touch Naomi's backside._

_ Delicately, his hand covered hers, which provoked a sudden immobility in the young woman, quite uncomfortable at his touch._

_ "_Your aura is so pure, Naomi…"

_But he took care to not further discomfort her, shifting away as soon as he had showed her the technique. It was true – she was scared. Almost on principle. What he hated most of all, he was powerless to show her the slightest bit of affection._

_ They had meticulously raked the ground for hours and the sun was setting when they finally considered themselves conquered, having unfortunately not found anything satisfying._

_ "You aren't too tired, are you?" he asked, throwing her a quick glance._

_ The two, in failure, had let themselves fall to the powdery earth as there was no nearby stone on which they could both sit._

_ She still was guarded, despite weeks of indiscrete playing despite the natural curiosity of the origin of the flesh lacerations in the back of her seafaring companion. She had noticed them as soon as they had met but had never mentioned them. Which she believed Marik doubtlessly appreciated._

_ Perhaps finally pushed by the serene atmosphere of the calm night with the crescent moon, or partly by a fragile confidence which she held in the young man, the idea of quenching the object of her pondering seemed more appropriate in her mind._

_ "I…" she breathed._

_ He easily sensed her apprehension, knowing the object of her embarrassment, when, turning his head in her direction, he saw Naomi's fingers moving to tickle the nape of his neck._

_ "Can… I?"_

_ Irritation. He normally would have become angry by such a maneuver but, despite the heated feeling he camouflaged with a quick turn of the head, he acquiesced to her demand._

_ Her fingers had never before dared to make contact with his flesh, though she had with detail scrutinized the strange designs. So much so that a minute passed with neither of the two daring to make the slightest movement, fearing that they would break the surrounding calm._

_ "It's fascinating," she murmured._

_ "Isn't it," he firmed, making sure to stop himself from sounding too ironic._

_ Naomi's fingers brushed against so delicately that they could barely hide the shiver which was growing stronger upon her skin._

_ He was already at ease, eyes closed, projected into a non-temporal dimension, protected from the stares of men and sensual raving he felt upon touching Naomi's body, close enough to be ivy on oak._

_ He affectionately several pieces of the skin so clearly perfumed by the odor of roses and jasmine. He listened to the divine music playing near his ear, breathing into him the purest of pleasures to hold her to his body._

_ Naomi pulled back her fingers. Her face showed a deep disturbance._

_ "This had to have been very painful…. wasn't it?"_

_ Marik's eyes shot open; he was unaware of how much time had passed. He felt no desire to complain or to joke about it._

_ Had he dozed off to sleep? Was it just a mirage, a dream?_

_ So he would have given anything not to have been awoken._

_ "A simple touch of your hands, Aphrodite, and the most atrocious suffering is forgotten," he murmured as if reciting verse._

_ Nothing could have been more just – for a short instant the entire planet fell out from underneath him._

_ Nothing was more beautiful, more sweet, then to see this perfect creature with the somber, rose-tinted cheeks._

_ Confusedly, her eyes lowered, conscious that she was been unreservedly stared at._

_ Marik couldn't prevent his hands from brushing against Naomi's face as he turned it towards his own. He could no longer resist his attraction to that timid look._

_ He felt it, she would shed her clothes, totally uneasily, doubting every single moment of intimacy. Nervously she stirred, visibly looking for a way out of his grasp._

_ He held her back, though, bringing his lips to hers._

_ "Don't be afraid of me, Naomi."_

. . . . . . . . .

Dizzy, she was about to lose equilibrium; she would fall if she didn't open her eyes.

_So far… it's just us…_

Naomi suddenly whipped them open, shaken by the strange sensation of being watched. Nobody had wiped away the steam of the shower window so far as she could tell; no one in the vapor with a sharp knife - no silhouette could be found on the other side. However, she was persuaded, somebody was lurking in the bathroom corner. Somebody whose silence unnerved her at that moment; the air suddenly charged with a very disagreeable gravity. The alarm had been raised in her mind. The presence, menacing and inopportune, was filled with anger and resentment.

She could feel perfectly well the violent, well-pronounced irritation of the invisible man.

But what managed to trouble her was that his presence was the one she recognized from amongst many – suave, musky, powerful, imperative.

. . . . . . . . .

In a flash, Mokuba had finished changing.

If not a measure of adequate protection against any aggressor, he had won in rapidity since his first course. He rushed for the coat room, throwing on his clothes, before heading for the limo where he knew he would be perfectly safe under the ever-vigilant eye of Davis, the driver, who was expecting his arrival.

Every time it was the same scenario: And Keenu, accompanied with several charming friends of his, sprinted after him, stopping only once the limo was in sight. They never would have risked anything before somebody else, especially if said person were an adult that was six-foot-two* with a glacial expression and the capacity to break your neck with two fingers. They weren't _that_ crazy, at least.

Mokuba gratuitously made fun of them once he was inside the car, turning to salute them with a wave, offering them his most devilish smile.

Davis wondered about the ploy. So silently he went along with the little game. Little mattered to him because Mokuba could get away with it, and he was forced to look after him anyway.

"Like usual, sir?"

"Er… of course!" Mokuba said as soon as he had closed the door again.

He was deeply happy to have adopted this new way of life which allowed him to dodge the attention of his brother, who probably often wondered about the comings and goings of his kid sibling.

But Mokuba was filled with an immense satisfaction at the idea of killing two birds with one stone, because, after each class, the true object of his thoughts resided in this weekly visit – almost too short, it seemed to him – with the young girl who was impatiently awaiting him at her home. Every day, he went to meet up with Samantha who, since Christmas, had taken on all of the appearances of being his girlfriend. Except for the kissing.

Also, strangely, neither one of them seemed too keen to perform this sign of affection, as if neither one was yet ready to do so. Or maybe they were too nervous and clumsy.

But the fact of the matter was, Mokuba was enjoying that sly smile of hers more and more.

. . . . . . . . .

Arms crossed, he stared for a long while at Naomi's silhouette on the other side of the glass, lost in some somber thought.

It was all too much for him – the image of that earthworm against her body repulsed him to the point that he thought he might have to slap himself to chase the image out of his head.

Lost. He didn't know if he was going to scream and demand an explanation because he was having so much trouble controlling his fury. However he didn't think himself to be a violent being.

Did he reasonably have the right to get himself tangled in the past that he barely knew at this point, for the sole excuse that he thought he should belong?

She hadn't harmed him in the slightest. Except for having existed before they met.

Well, wasn't he going to – in doing so – show off plenty of his egotism that he was prone to demonstrating, and ruin, in the same stroke, his chances – so thin – of keeping her?

Nothing is more difficult than admitting one's own weaknesses. Even more so if there only happens to be one of them. His, although he fought to disavow, carried about a ridiculous little name which was filled with so much meaning.

Kaiba sighed loudly, irritated by his own bad mood.

His feet took him away from the cold tile of the bathroom to take him back to the reassuring calm of his bedroom, where he chose to recline in an armchair, near the little commode beside the bed.

From here he could watch Naomi emerge.

And then…

. . . . . . . . .

The presence had departed. She found nobody there when she slipped out of the shower. However, she had not been dreaming.

Seto had barely walked through the door.

Carefully, she wiped the water off of her body with a towel she then wrapped around her waist. Then she walked for the bedroom, still half-naked.

"You scared me!" she yelled as she jumped upon seeing Kaiba sitting down in a corner of the room.

Something had changed in his attitude; he seemed deep in thought, profoundly bogged down. His face was hard, unmoving.

But what frightened her even more resided in the bare expression with which he was staring at her, as if she were prey, without any affection or compassion. With no emotion. She rapidly began to feel menace emanating from the curious human being.

Seto Kaiba, the man who could make her shiver at a glance, was not in this room and had nothing in common with the one now seated before her.

She was so frightened that she fell back a little, at which he rose to glide in her direction.

_What's…_

She was about to ask him the question when his voice cut the string of her thoughts.

"What happened with… Marik…Ishtar?"

_What? What does he…_

Although she still didn't understand what had come over him, she gave a brief sigh of relief. It was true – she had thought for a moment that a horrible event had befallen since they had last seen each other which probably would concern his younger brother, of whom she was nowadays equally anxious about.

"Oh, it was Mokuba who – " she began with a reassuring smile.

But Kaiba was approaching dangerously, ever taller and more menacing, anger making his lips quiver. So much so that she thought for a split second that it appeared as if he were about to vomit.

He was not laughing, completely beside himself although she sensed him fighting back the worst of it - restraining himself from the worst possible violence. Then his voice, very grave, hit the air, resonating in a clear, raging echo. He was not asking; he was demanding with a furious hissing between the teeth. And the malicious form which his mouth had adopted terrified her more than one hundred of those alleyway thugs could ever do.

"What happened with Marik Ishtar, Naomi?"

* * *

*In the original, 1.9 meters. Pick whichever one floats your boat.

Wow, three chapters in a day! I might need to take a break this weekend...


	18. Chapter 18

This story, under its original title _Apparances_, is property of Melzart, and the Yu-Gi-Oh! Franchise is property of Kazuki Takahashi.

* * *

Chapter 18

_The Time of Innocence_

_Part II_

She stared for a long moment into Kaiba's face, searching for what the brusque and irascible attitude meant; she could easily sense him fighting to keep himself internally calm and to not fall victim to the rage that was wracking him. He was still trembling, however, his attempt occurring with some difficulty.

But the shivering did not fool Naomi, whose hairs had stood on end all at once in a single cold wave.

Kaiba had never previously attempted to demystify her past, having respect for her person and her identity, to such an extent that she wondered if he even knew her last name, having strangely never called her by anything other than her first.

Courageously, she turned to face him as he stood there, less than three feet away, arms crossed. Waiting.

She was first of all too stunned to know exactly how to react to such a brusque swing in attitudes. Then, panic ceding into worry, her body had temporarily paralyzed before the posture that he had adopted, tall and menacing all at once.

She had almost thought for a seemingly interminable instant that something had happened to Mokuba and that he was trying, in his shock, to warn her. A sign that he would need support, even comforting.

But there was no longer any doubt that that hypothesis had been duly rejected.

"You're sure nothing's wrong with Mokuba, right?" she insisted again, attempting to revalidate her conclusions.

She sputtered, with a pronounced anxiety.

Which, strangely, had the effect of setting Kaiba off-guard, who blinked slightly at the amount of apprehension she had.

_What? She's worried about Mokuba?_

For a fraction of a second Naomi could have sworn that she saw a flash of recognition shoot across his eyes. Yet he did not yield for long, gathering himself back together just as speedily.

"Yes," he replied dryly but also as if readying to turn away his gaze, profoundly touched by her inquisitive zeal.

She held back another sigh of relief; nothing worse could afflict a Kaiba. Although she wasn't reassured all _that _much.

There was still that oppressive feeling circling less than a foot above her head.

"Did I do something wrong?" she asked again in a tone which almost stupidly invoked a request for forgiveness, as if she had something that she needed to be pardoned for.

_Wrong?_

Kaiba held himself back from flinching slightly, faced with the futility of such a rage in his breast.

_No, nothing wrong, not that… but…_

His insatiable curiosity ordered him to leave nothing to chance, forcing him to play the tough guy.

"I don't know. Maybe," he affirmed in a monotone, almost as if he were simultaneously searching to admit to her past crimes he knew were completely nonexistent.

She shook her head, eyes filled with disappointment.

_What are you trying to get at?_

What was he trying to tell her? Had she already said something that could wound him or somehow cause him trouble?

No. She had nothing to be ashamed of.

"Let's talk about Marik Ishtar," he said again, more conviction in his voice, his arms crossing even tighter.

The simple question took the allure of a veritable command – he was not asking, he was demanding.

The fact took her a long second before she came out of her torpor. She had thought, given his terrible expression, that something horrible had happened before he had even entered the room. Only now nothing could justify his behavior any longer.

If not, he was trying to immerse himself, wrongly, into her past and her private life.

After all, wasn't she simply a guest? Okay, fine, a guest that the two brothers thought of quite highly. A particular guest who shared her host's bed. Which meant _something_.

But first and foremost, she was still simply a guest; one which comes, stays a while, and knows full well that the hour of departure was sprinting towards them. Everything has an ending. Which, of course, she hadn't managed to yet tell Kaiba, if she ever would.

He had no right to impose himself upon her in this manner. No right to think for a single moment that she had become his plaything, his exclusive toy, despite all of the appearances.

This time, more and more annoyed by the turn of events, Naomi simply turned around to clothe herself in her underwear with a sudden sense of modesty, as if she were faced with a complete stranger that she had met the previous night.

Kaiba shivered at the sight of her naked body and had to even close his eyes to prevent himself from being overtaken by another sudden spurt of desire. Even his anger seemed to disappear from his being, showing once more the torturous weakness that plagued him.

So much so that if he hadn't restrained himself he would have forgotten everything and seized her in his arms – forgotten that maybe at that instant the idea to possess her would only have gotten worse under the negative influence of the fury which animated him. She never would have liked it, not more than he did actually – being the prey to an animal instinct, primitive and savage.

However, to stop all the bad events from occurring and to drag Naomi out of the mausoleum which her mind had become, he would have shaken her like a maraca, hoping to knock her back to her senses.

For an instant Seto Kaiba was terrified by his own thoughts; he was so repulsed by his own violence that a bitter disgust rose up through his mouth as if he would puke. He even believed the room to be spinning around him.

However, he could never manage to cause her even the slightest bit of harm.

Then he finally took control of himself.

_Grr… look at me when I'm speaking to you, Naomi… I hate it when you do that…_

The tension inside of him must have been quite contagious, as he perceived a certain irritation in Naomi's eyes as she turned around to face him again. Moreover – and this was quite rare – he noticed a sudden redness on the young woman's face, a sign that she was far less patient or tolerant of this interrogation.

He remembered the only time that he had seen that type of reaction before; the very first night that they had met when she was trying to rid herself of Mr. Kinomoto, an action which eventually made him feel obliged to come to her aid. He had then felt such a force emanating from her that he had stayed nailed to the floor where he was.

But the crisis was no longer very far way. The same one he secretly feared; he had understood that the risks were enormous when he placed his hand on the doorknob. Despite his curiosity, he would have infinitely preferred to avoid the quarrel which was now floating in the air waiting to be snatched down. But alas: he had walked in.

It was too late to back out now.

It was not a question of whether he would let her intimidate him so easily. Nor was it a question that she lie to him, or that the responses that she was to furnish satisfy him completely. But she should not forget that he was incapable of saying enough in the little time remaining where she was still under his roof.

"Yes, I knew Marik."

Kaiba's heart suddenly froze in his chest. He _would _have preferred that she lie to him, that all of this have been some sort of large misunderstanding.

Apparently Naomi was showing no signs of weakness, or of any sort of remorse. On the contrary.

As if the question were merely trivial, she continued:

"So what?"

_Why do you care? Besides, what could you possibly want, Seto?_

Strange.

Now that he was certain of the veracity of the fact, at least in theory, he found himself speechless despite the feeling of urgency to dig deeper. All of the questions were rattling about inside of his head as he desperately tried to hide the fury which was consuming him to the point he could believe he could smash his fist into any object in the room. Anything but…

_At least she admitted it. So she isn't lying. Calm down, Kaiba. Just wait and see._

No. He would never dare lay a finger on her.

Anybody else would have fallen to their knees to beg for forgiveness, doubting the worst of his wrath. But she didn't budge an inch. She did not fear Seto Kaiba. He would not forget it.

She continued to clothe herself in peace in the complete silence.

She seemed to be resolved to keep to herself, to not push the discussion any farther.

So he was obliged to insist.

"For how long?"

She was already tired of their game of cat and mouse, sighing loudly as she shot him a look.

"Not for a while. But a long time ago."

There. She had said it. Even if she still didn't know exactly why or for what purpose she should respond.

_A long time ago? I doubt that._

"And…" he pressed dryly.

_Don't continue, Seto. Don't. Don't ask any more questions. You have no right to,_ she thought as she turned her back to him again to walk over to the window.

"Was he… your lover?"

Naomi almost jumped at the question; she had never imagined that he would ask her _that _question.

_So that's what's so interesting to him… about Marik._

A short silence fell between them again. But she soon felt disconcerted by the vulgarity of his insistence.

"Did you sleep with Marik Ishtar?"

_What!_

Seto was trying as hard as possible to come across as impassible. However, the quivering of his voice betrayed him slightly. He simply didn't fully realize how such words could come out of his own mouth.

How had they reached this point? Everything had been going along so well.

Exactly – too well, maybe.

And if she was looking within herself for a reason to reject the question painlessly, it was certainly a good time to summon all of the elements that she needed. That way he could not hold her back. Then he would back off, once and for all.

To forget that she could not lie – to forget that he'd find out, one way or another. He would guess.

Kaiba stayed motionless, as if on the receiving end of an enormous slap across the face that he could not find the proper emotion to react with.

Then suddenly there was complete darkness. A total eclipse.

Seto Kaiba fell into the deep abyss of his own madness, his mind fleeing his body.

What could he do against a past and its invisible components, those famous well-hidden gremlins tucked far underneath Naomi's flesh? She had deserved none of this, not anymore than she deserved his maligned rage.

However, all of a sudden, nothing was so simple anymore; he remembered perfectly well of all of the evil of the infernal creature which inhabited Marik's body as well as all of the damage that he had caused during the very short time that they had been acquainted during the Battle City tournament. And it was the never-ending series of questions which fluttered around behind his back: had he concocted some sort of plan to surreptitiously attack the susceptible, beautiful creature before him?

Was Seto Kaiba being fooled like some little kid?

What if Naomi had slept with that monster and they had decided upon a plan – lowly, disloyal – for the purpose of taking his company or attacking him? He was accustomed to the attempts. Except he never would have seen this one coming.

Was it possible that she had secretly communicated with him this entire time, right under his nose, and that he had seen absolutely nothing, too blinded by his strong feelings that he had for her?

Or maybe – what he feared most – that she could find the slightest bit of affection, her most simple of desires, even physical ones, in a man other than himself?

In either case, there were more questions than there were answers.

No. It wasn't possible. She never would have played him the fool in such a grandiose, unpleasant fashion, deprived of all scruples. Besides, wasn't the basis of his attraction cemented in the fact that she always sought to distance herself, despite all that he did to pull her closer?

Again the threat of her departure hung heavy in the surrounding air. Today more than ever.

The idea seemed carelessly tossed, like any other. It was a completely illogical and irrational thing. Then again, she never seemed interested in his fucking company or what his salary was. Not even his bank account.

No, he had to look for answers in a completely different domain.

What could possibly bring them back together?

It was a nightmare. And he was swimming in the middle of it.

"Answer me, Naomi!" he shouted, about ready to lose control.

If she were afraid, even just a smidge, she should be white with fear.

. . . . . . . . .

_He had to seem completely foolish, like some first-timer; his lips stayed hovering in the air, aimed towards an invisible object, and his eyes were still closed. He had seen nothing, felt nothing except the slight breeze made as Naomi quickly scrambled to stand._

_Why must she slip away? Why had she not given him the kiss he sorely wanted?_

_He thought for a fraction of a second that he had won._

_Perhaps he had forgotten that she did not share his exact sentiments._

_She seemed at least to appreciate him, trust him perhaps, to a certain extent. But beyond that point he would have sworn nothing._

_He had to fight to not show his disappointment, to close up his manly desire as far inside of him as possible._

_But Marik was a good sport, rising himself now to join her on her way back towards the small inn where they had been staying for several days._

_After all, Greece had not yet unearthed all of her secrets… such as Naomi._

_And it seemed to him, on a whim, that he must be among the most patient of men…_

. . . . . . . . .

This time, Naomi whirled around, outraged by Kaiba's remark. Her eyes were brimming with anger.

Again she did not seek to excuse herself or to appease Seto's rage.

"Why? You think that'd make me some sort of whore? Is that it?"

Kaiba violently took a step backwards.

_No… that's not…_

Everything had gone too far. And what had thus far contained him was now centering on the fact that he suddenly didn't wish to know anymore.

In a half-whisper, he attempted to rectify himself slightly, seeing as the damage had already been done.

"That's not what I meant."

Was it too far for excuses?

Seto Kaiba, capable of excusing himself? Yes, but not this time, despite all the rules he had broken to get here. Actions, words he never would have believed himself capable of asking or saying. To anyone.

And despite the fact that a part of himself was ashamed, he did not pay it any mind.

"Well, that's certainly what you insinuated!" she snapped back at once.

_No. No. Not this. Stop, Naomi!..._

If he hadn't decided to be so strong, he would have covered his ears with his hands like a child being reprimanded too harshly. Instead, his fists curled, and he forbade himself from glancing away.

He was the instigator of this dispute. So he felt justified in suffering the consequences. Even if nothing was outwardly wrong.

It was vital, like always, to never let anything show.

"Who the hell do you think I am? Do you honestly think you have the right to reach into people's private lives and do whatever the hell you want? And then fucking _judge _them? What the _hell _do you want from me?"

What could he do now?

He had not betrayed the truth. And he had never before told anybody what it was.

"Nothing," he hissed between his teeth, half insane with rage against himself for his indiscretion in thinking that Marik profited off of Naomi's naïveté.

At the moment, he was certain, she felt vulnerable. Nothing that could have happened was entirely his fault. He knew that too well.

But did _she _know that?

It was just that she didn't deserve to be judged so severely, like some sort of criminal.

He couldn't put aside the hypothesis – or the demi-truth – that he had probably pushed things too far between them.

The main question that he was asking himself now was whether he should count on what he had discovered. What had they changed, really?

There had always been a few bitches in his existence; but she had never asked anything of him, never reproached him.

So.

Naomi had purposefully cloistered herself in silence once more; she was greatly insulted, her eyes boring a hole in the glass as they stared into the courtyard on the other side.

As if reading the quietude, he easily guessed everything that the ivory glare meant. She was already so far away. As he had suspected. As he had known for such a long time already.

As he had _always _known.

_You idiot!_

Didn't he just give her the perfect excuse to slip further between his fingers?

It seemed that the best thing to do now was to retreat. At least, it was the smartest idea. It at least gave him time to pull himself together and decide upon a more efficient strategy to bring things back to a state of calm.

"Fine," he breathed as he whirled around for the door, an action which made no impact upon Naomi, whose anger had not yet subsided.

It was becoming clear that the time of departure was approaching faster than ever before. There was no mistaking it: Kaiba was unsatisfied, and was looking to learn as much as he felt that he needed to know.

The problem was that there was nothing to know. At least, nothing that could touch him any more closely than anything else could. Everyone has their secrets that they keep well-engrained inside of their minds, and Kaiba was certainly no exception to the rule.

But such a violent reaction spoke for itself.

Kaiba was furious. She didn't doubt that. But why? Was it because Marik was a member of the group he classified as his eternal enemies, or was it only… a strand of… was it humanly possible that Kaiba was…

Jealous?

Of a man? Of a memory?

It was stupid – impossible, irrational, as he had no rival.

But had she fully grasped the entire meaning of his feelings?

Maybe not.

Hadn't Mokuba pretended that she was his "girlfriend"?

Yet she was still awestruck by such behavior. At the same time, she was troubled. Moved that he could possess for her such strong feelings, also, far more powerful than she had previously believed.

After all… hadn't _she _shown some irritation upon Ishizu, Marik's sister, when Mokuba forwarded the tape? Of course she wouldn't say it out loud. She wouldn't admit it.

And that fact suddenly and quite violently tore the wind out of her.

_Not even him…_

_I was blind. He wasn't judging me. He wanted to know… be reassured… that I still felt for him… oh, my god…_

As she reflected, the truth appeared more and more to align with that description.

Kaiba was a very seductive man, if not irresistible.

So strong, so powerful.

But – and this is what made her smirk slightly – filled with insecurity.

But that couldn't last. It wasn't supposed to be taken further.

Sooner or later she would pass under the doorframe of the entrance once and for all and never return. It was inevitable.

So what good was it to entertain the idea of some sort of intimate relationship anyway? Didn't he already know enough?

He knew what he needed to know.

Perhaps even too much.

Her eyes soon wandered over to the armoire. She should find everything necessary of hers there that Kaiba had recovered from her hotel room.

It was beautiful outside. Even if it was a tad chilly. Even if the pain would still shoot up her sides. She had seen others before.

She knew that she could survive.

She moved forwards to open it, readying herself to grab the first suitcase that she could find, when her hand hesitated on the knob and she froze in place.

Although she hated this house, owing to the somber memories of the two brothers, she couldn't help but think that for the first time in her life, it was good to live somewhere. A place where she was wanted, and where she was safe.

Seto's arms kept her locked in a vice.

At least Seto Kaiba treated her like a human being.

So why should she flee again?

Why couldn't destiny be more clement for once? Just once.

No. It was beginning to become unbearable. And although she was once again flooded with calm, an even worse hurricane was raging in her heart. She was already suffering from not being there, from not being in his arms.

Of course she was going to leave.

But not 'like that'. Not now. Her departure was to be without commotion, on tiptoe, like a thief leaving with the goods he believes to be most precious.

Her plan of action was to enlarge the wide moat which surrounded whatever piece of her heart remained in her, and to further solidify the walls of her emotional fortress.

. . . . . . . . .

"Are you sure you can't stay and have dinner with us?" Samantha asked as she picked up one of her video games from off of the ground. "Come on, at least _once_," she kept insisting.

Her imploring eyes directly touched Mokuba's heart. It was curious, this profound feeling that he felt for the first time in his life. At least, for somebody other than this own brother. Of course the two were incomparable.

"Ah… no, I can't, Sam…. sorry," he said half-heartedly. "But if you want we can go out tomorrow night."

She seemed strongly interested as her big blue eyes jumped from sadness to enthusiasm.

"I dunno," he mumbled. "How about a movie?"

"Oh yeah!" she exclaimed, practically clapping her hands together. And then she blushed.

Mokuba felt moved, and almost happy as well, that all of this was because of him. It was crazy just how happy she was.

Every time he found himself with her, he barely had to conjure up a memory of the two of them together before his heart began pounding furiously. And the sky turned from gray to blue; sometimes pink, too. Oh, yes, the sky was wonderful.

It had now been several weeks since the Christmas day that they had begun to see each other more assiduously.

His courses in self-defense largely helped mask his secret. He remembered Naomi, although she ignored quite what was making him so happy, if she imagined anything at all. But he still hadn't dared to speak about this to Seto, which maddened him slightly since it was he was the one which he normally entrusted with such affairs. Wasn't he a man before he was his brother? A man with some degree of experience?

They seemed to pass every day in innocence, neither one daring to truly approach the other. Of course because they were novices in the field, young, overly timorous first-timers who barely risked touching the other with the tips of their fingers.

But Mokuba had asked for nobody's help; he thought it more prudent to take things as they came.

But he could not hide the fact that he hoped for that particular moment from himself. A kiss. Not a quick one, not on the cheek. A real one, driven by the zeal of the heart.

But as Samantha was no more hurried than he was, he kept his distance. The day would surely come sooner or later.

From him. Without disturbing anything.

"I'd really love it if you stayed," she admitted as she bowed her head, a certain chagrin in her voice.

_Seto will ask me zillions of questions and not care about whether they're private or not. Ugh._

He couldn't risk it.

However, if he weren't so worried about his brother's curiosity, he would have definitely acquiesced. Anything to see her smile.

"Samantha," he breathed as he softly approached her, filled with a powerful yet silent confidence.

"Mokuba…" she repeated without raising her eyes. "I'd like for you to – "

But she stopped in mid-sentence, too embarrassed to continue.

_You can ask me whatever you want, _ he thought with a smile.

But she still stood there, looking forlorn.

"Yes… what? What would you like?" he hurried to ask her in an attempt to break the silence that had fallen upon her.

And then her cheeks grew bright red.

"…oh…" he said with a flinch, suddenly understanding her keen interest.

_Come on, dude. Be a man. Don't forget, you're a Kaiba._

_ Psh, that sounded like Seto. Get out of my head._

_ Grr… this isn't the time to panic! Calm down, calm down…_

_ Agh…. but she's so beautiful. What if I can't do it, what if I make a fool of myself… oh, I could never look at her again!.._

How everything was no longer so simple.

Mokuba felt like he took a deep breath, but he let nothing show. Unending tickling began inside of his stomach. He had begun to shake, terrified at the sole thought of disappointing her and simultaneously disappointing himself. And he knew that no moment would again be more difficult than this most decisive one.

But the time having arrived to move on to more serious things, Mokuba wasn't going to _unclothe_ himself now that he knew how Samantha felt.

It was to be what he did best in his life: he was to make a man out of himself. His fingers softly pushed Samantha's face upwards so that she could offer him her pink lips.

_Was it the same for Seto his first time? Is it normal to be this nervous?_

_ Grr… this is _not _the time to ask questions!_

It was often in the worst moments of uncertainty that he remembered Seto's assurances. Nothing resisted it. Besides, everything bent to his will like crinkling reeds.

He admired him so much, especially at this moment, because he always knew what to do.

Softly, he bent towards hers and, closing his eyes and making a secret prayer, he placed his lips upon hers.

_Woah… I can't believe it… I did it! I… _he kept repeating to himself, a child who had just hit his first home run and was now sprinting over all of the bases.

The kiss started off small, held back.

Yet there was still the panic that wouldn't leave him, the uncertainty he had in himself.

_What the…_

A sensation of heat, very humid, suddenly blossomed over his mouth.

Intuitively, they had lightly opened their lips, searching awkwardly for the other person's tongue, like they were running a marathon before arriving at the finish line. Then their bodies interlaced together, Samantha raising her arms to close them around Mokuba's neck as he let his hands slide down to her hips to reinforce the embrace.

Finally, a first kiss.

A real one.

. . . . . . . . .

_ Do something, Kaiba, goddamn it! She has to be in the middle of packing her suitcase… well, you did it! You should be proud. Grr… do something… you idiot!_

Kaiba was sitting still in the penumbra of his office, having no light but the feeble amount provided by the open laptop before him. It was still daylight outside, but he had pulled the curtains.

He had subsided into his large armchair, elbows on the desk and his fingers on his lips, pensive.

What had driven him to behave in such a manner?

What wounded him most inside was surely that Naomi hadn't deigned to respond to his worries. Because that meant that he hadn't made himself sufficiently appreciated for her to trust him with anything; sign that she still _didn't _trust him at all, or that she just wasn't as attracted to him as he had hoped. In either case, he was badly shaken.

Hadn't he done everything, correctly even, to hold her back and make her love him?

All of his plans had crumbled; there was no triangle, there was no alliance.

But he was tired of all of the patience and effort that got no payback.

He had believed himself to be strong enough to fill the gulf of Naomi's heart. But he soon swore that to be impossible. Especially because time was no longer on his side.

It was true that he had just hastened her departure unnecessarily. That fact couldn't leave him.

But it was to compare two distinct wishes – what he wanted against what _she _wanted. Two entirely different things. If not, they had to be one and the same.

It was just that Naomi didn't seem as if she were ready.

So he understood that the time to act had just as well come for himself; he could pass over Naomi's past, which he was already taking into consideration. But every day it proved more and more difficult to keep the secrets he already knew about buried deep down. Secrets that they had never discussed between them. Because all that Naomi dreamed about was leaving. And there was no way to hold her back. If there was, there was only one surefire way – and it was so risky that he had trouble envisioning it. It demanded that he involve himself entirely, and that he prepare to do more bad than good. At least in the beginning.

But the main question remained: he wondered how far he could go, and, above all, if he was willing to do so.

The bare and naked truth that he could do nothing against her will. He could not let her out of his prison without his plain consent nor without his aid, which she was not at all ready to consider accepting.

Yes – Seto Kaiba was tired.

_But everything had been going so well until…_

_ Grr… Mokuba… why?_

It was of course his little brother who must have raised her alarm bells. His own little brother that he had pushed into this maze, from which he would sooner or later emerge.

_Argh! Fuck everything that she's done before. It has nothing to do with me. It's not important. It's not important. It's not…_

Sincere, to the depths of his soul.

No, he had not stopped waging war. After all, he wasn't the sort of man who gave up when just one problem appeared, even if it first appeared to be insurmountable. Not Seto Kaiba.

Yet… hadn't he offered her the world if she asked for it?

But what did that promise consist of that he had made to her, and to himself in the same vein?

To enjoy happy times, because they would be numerous. Her life would be full of them.

He just had to fire up her passions again.

Despite the circumstances – despite _her _– it was a promise that he was going to keep.

Seto Kaiba would be the man, the one, the only, _the _man which would give her back her _joie de vivre._

* * *

I actually finished this chapter yesterday, I wanted to start a little on Ch. 19 to give myself a head-start for the next day and... I kind of got sucked in. Thanks to justtheretoreadff for reminding me to put this up ^^_  
_


	19. Chapter 19

The original French story is property of Melzart, and the Yu-Gi-Oh! franchise is property of Kazuki Takahashi.

* * *

Chapter 19

_The Time of Innocence_

_Part III_

. . . . . . . . .

_You're not me_

_No one understands what I would do to change my life for just one day_

_Don't say if I were you_

_Or tell me what to do_

_How things would be if you were in my shoes_

_Please take me as I am_

_This isn't what I planned_

_I guess I don't expect that you could understand_

'_Cause you're not me.__*_

. . . . . . . . .

She was going out to get some air. Leave this house.

She had already been dressed for a while before she decided to dry her long brown hair – hair that now reached down to the middle of her back – with a blow dryer. She was, however, so pressed to leave that she almost forgot that it was still winter outside.

_Grr…_

It was however such a simple question, an easy response, whether that be a yes or a no. Yet she had neither confirmed nor denied the accusations. How the hell was she obligated to?

She had of course been trying to escape the entire time, but her past would catch up to her no matter where she went, no matter what she did. So much so that her past had become a faithful, quotidian companion of hers…

. . . . . . . . .

_Another Mediterranean sunset, as only they could be in this part of the world._

_ Days and nights were peacefully passing them by._

_ That morning, very early, Marik hurriedly had run to Naomi's room, Odion close behind; he had just discovered an important archeological site which was just beginning to be excavated. He had managed, under the pressure of persuasion, to woo the crew chief over to the idea of both himself and Naomi's participation. Odion, on the other hand, was taking more pleasure from the nature and the tourism. He wasn't the type of guy interested in digging up dirt all day. Yet he never was far away from his companion._

_ It was just that Marik was so happy to reserve the surprise for the young woman that they would have to begin in less than an hour. So happy that he clambered up the stairs to her room, taking the stairs by three._

_ It was a very large suite, and their rooms were connected by a door. What had dazzled them even more was the superb open terrace where they had spent many quiet evenings making small talk._

_ Certain that she was already awake and ready to run this morning, he surprised himself with the energy with which the door flew open, Odion still shouting after him._

_ He hadn't realized that he had rushed in far too quickly, and moreover, without knocking first. It was to cause him the greatest shock of his life._

_ Naomi was not asleep. And she definitely wasn't ready to leave._

_ He was still panting from the long climb when the two men found themselves before the scene of a young woman standing in her bathtub, her foot tentatively reaching for the floor before her._

_ Entirely naked._

_ The two men shrieked to a halt, conscious of their error, and, with a gasp, Marik whipped around to turn his back to her after having clamped onto his friend's sleeve in an attempt to get him to do the same. It was almost comical – their heads shot skywards, children caught with their hands in the cookie jar._

_ A certain redness spread over Marik's cheeks. But its intensity was nothing compared to the sweet smile of victory which graced his face now, although he tried to hide it from Odion, tried to be as much of marble as he._

_ Naomi, very modest, whipped around and threw a large towel around her body._

Agh… she's so beautiful… I have to be dreaming… just don't pinch yourself… I beg you. I'm in paradise…

_Marik, still struck hard by the vision, had felt his heart stop beating; she smelled good, even from feet away. Her odor was easily breathable. It could not compare with the softness of the white silk which covered her body; he was sure, holding her in his arms would, pure and simple, be Nirvana._

_ He began to shake slightly as a very agreeable shiver flowed through his entire body._

_ Yet she had not shouted. Perhaps she was too taken aback by the intrusion. Everything had happened so quickly that she probably hadn't the time to show her indignation._

_ But the deed was done – what could she say or add, despite her growing uneasiness?_

_ She also reddened, but out of embarrassment._

_ "Pardon me… I… I…" he babbled awkwardly. "I'll… just wait for… you downstairs…"_

_ In one quick move he seized his friend by the arm and rushed to leave the room. Of course Odion had just seen the same thing that he had. But he didn't try to discover what he thought of that… oasis of dreams._

_ In fact, he had no need of a rival; Naomi was already unapproachable enough. But he was not worried because Odion would not betray him._

_. . . . . . . . ._

_ "Go prepare everything, if you want," he asked of her when they met back up on the ground floor._

_ He was still in his 'state' and was fighting to not let Odion notice. But he understood that the battle was nearly lost, a very slight smile escaping onto his lips._

_ Of course he wished for her to have the greatest happiness, as she saw fit._

_ As soon as Odion was out of sight, Marik let himself tumble down into a chair, persuaded that he needed a little calm to pull himself back together. Even an ice-cold shower would be insufficient to cool him down at the moment._

_ Nothing could work because that vision, which he could never forget, shook him to the core._

And she'll be mine… you must be patient… I want you to be mine, Naomi.

_Again the smile of victory crept upon him as he closed his eyes to replay the movie in his mind._

_ He sighed._

. . . . . . . . .

Naomi softly walked down the grand staircase to the front entrance.

She was putting on her coat when Marie, as predictable as ever, approached her.

"Hello ma'am, are you going out?"

Naomi gave Marie her best smile and let none of her mind's confusion taint it.

"Yes, thank you."

Marie was still worried about her health.

"Are you sure that you do not wish to wait for – "

"No, that's alright, Marie, don't worry."

To which Kaiba's faithful servant found no reply.

She would have preferred it be like normal, when she would be accompanied by Mokuba on their small walk, when she was more pensive. But she had to resign herself to leaving without a word.

She wasn't even outside before she felt as if she were finally breathing fully.

"Ma'am, is everything alright?" asked one of the guards on either side of the door.

_This can't be happening. I sometimes get the impression that this house is actually a prison… it's crazy._

But he was no more mal-intentioned than Marie. So she showed as much kindness as she could.

"Yes, thank you."

With that, she nodded her head respectfully as she moved softly into the large alley.

Snow was still partially covering in the immense expanse of ground, and her feet left visible imprints in her wake. A little to the right. Then to the left. A little to nowhere in particular as she wondered where she could really go.

Actually, everything was holding her back.

She had to regain control of her life, start over her daily grind; the training, the night scene, her contract at the hotel – her visits to the orphanage, the many other things she used to do. Yes. She had to recommence all of those things.

But Kaiba? What to do about Kaiba?

Hadn't she told him that she had no place for anyone in her heart?

Yes.

But that was before. He was a part of her now.

She had to get away from him. Before it went any further.

She sighed loudly.

It was ridiculous; they were already so far into their relationship. Even if she tried to deny it.

Maybe she wasn't through, given the lack of information he had of her. But in a short amount of time, she knew, they had burned enough rubber.

. . . . . . . . .

Several knocks against the door lifted Kaiba from his thoughts.

_Naomi?_

"Come in!" he yelled without raising his eyes.

The shadow that was then cast upon the open doorframe by the light did not resemble Naomi's.

His heart sunk.

"Sir?"

"Hm."

"I wanted to let you know that Naomi has gone out, alone."

_Gone out? To go where? Did she have a suitcase, anything in her hand?_

But he was not to pass beyond his pride, and did not ask her any more supplementary questions. It was as if he already knew – a lie he concealed with difficulty.

"Very well, Marie."

He waited until she had closed the door before he shot up and bolted to the window.

Without causing the slightest crinkle in the curtains, he carefully peeled them back to look for the object of his concern.

No. She had nothing with her. Which should be a good sign to him because she wasn't ready to move any further than the edge of the property. However…

_Grr…_

He determinedly shot like an arrow out of his office, yanked a coat down to throw around himself, to himself rush towards the foyer.

. . . . . . . . .

Mokuba didn't try to hide his radiant smile as he sat in the backseat of the limousine that was taking him home. He found it hard to sit still, crazed with impatience, because he could finally tell someone – his brother – that…

That he was in love. And Samantha was the center of his universe.

This time, he didn't hold back, leaving Seto with the overbearing lack of emotion.

Anyway, couldn't he understand?

Since Naomi had come into his existence, ignoring the sad or difficult times, his brother's life had changed. He had become more sensible, more tolerant, maybe more inclined to smile or to have fun, or at least make fun of himself. He should know better than anybody.

It really was too beautiful in Domino City.

He was happy. And most of all, he had given himself the mission to make everyone he encountered as happy as he was.

. . . . . . . . .

_"I'm sincerely sorry for this morning."_

_ They had barely exchanged a word with each other. And the day had proven to be gorgeous, perfect for their enterprising on-site. Naomi was kneeling, furrowing through the soil as much with her hands as with her trowel; he was delighted that she was appreciating every second._

_ Wasn't that the goal?_

_ But she shook her head without a reply, as if forgiving him – or as if nothing had ever happened._

_ She visibly had no desire to discuss the matter._

_ After all she wasn't stupid to the point that she couldn't see his unease and that he would wish for last night to repeat itself. He hadn't done it on purpose; he was just too excited at the idea of making her happy and had forgotten his savoir-faire._

_ Which was for the best for her happiness, she supposed; yet she never would have told him that._

_ They weren't more than several steps away from the inn._

_ "And… I wanted to ask you… I don't know if you're as hungry as I am, but…"_

_ "That's alright," she responded with a timid smile. "I'm not that hungry.?"_

_ In a delicate movement he held her by the arm, stopping her in her tracks._

_ "Come on… it's not much, my Goddess, you must eat…" he said, half-amusedly._

_ Naomi recognized his soft smile, but she kept on walking towards the inn._

_ Again, he touched her arm._

_ "Naomi… I'd like… to talk," he murmured._

_ "About what? Why should I?" _

_ "I can see you suffering. I sense it. And I know that all is not well. But what makes me angry is that I do not know what to do in order to help you."_

_ She ignored his remark, as benevolent as it was, because she had already restarted moving back towards the inn. But she was moved by his very sincere compassion._

_ Of course she knew that Marik's sentiments were well-founded. And while he was doubtless a marvelous man, she still was not entirely seduced. Too many wounds – recent ones – thwarted the Egyptian's plan. And what he searched to unearth she could not uncover to him._

_ Yes, curiosity had long become a thirst to know; Marik knew that as long as he was not intimate with her, she would never open herself up to anyone. And he wished so much to be the man that made her forget everything._

_ "Naomi," he whispered, again watching the distance between them grow, his heart filled with a certain compassion – and disappointment._

_ With a profound sadness._

_ The more days that passed, the more Marik's love was definitely becoming maddening. However, as those days passed, Naomi was drifting away, as if her spirit were not to follow the same path as his own._

_ At times what he saw of her terrified him; she had every characteristic of being a specter that passes through one's life, soulless and without a conscience; but she was a specter firmly in the real world._

_ She had all of the attributes of Charon, the boatman on the river Styx – the river of Hades – on his journey to the realm of the dead. All the comings and goings that his work demanded. Except that she drag nobody in her wake, except for simple, torturous memories that were her only permitted passengers._

_ A shadow which zigzagged across the water, between both worlds._

_ And that also pained his heart. She was so beautiful and so adorable._

_ How could she also be so damned?_

_ He however knew the Shadow Realm well enough to have already visited. Enough times to know that an infernal stay would not quite suit her._

_ If it were in his power to conquer the hell in his own heart, he would accept it with his eyes closed and arms open. Yes, he would welcome that._

_ He heard a demented laugh, then, almost demonic – a laugh he recognized from amongst all others._

_ "What?"_

_ "No. Not you. Go away."_

_ But the laugh redoubled in force, causing Marik to shift his head aside, ready to find the worst and most nightmarish vision of his existence; the same one that had been with him since childhood and which he had always believed himself to be rid of following his famous duel with the Pharaoh._

_ "If you want to go find her in hell, I'll be happy to help. I'll take her personally."_

_ And the voice froze him to the bone._

_ Little by little, Marik became bogged down in the rage and horror that was his alternate self._

_ "Fuck off!"_

_ He violently grasped his own head, shaking it energetically as if fighting to rip it off._

_ "Grrr… you monster! You won't go anywhere near her!"_

_ "Hahaha! You're your own monster, Marik," the entity replied. "You'll soon need me again. You'll see!"_

_ "Go away!" Marik nearly shouted._

_ He had been observed for a short while now – he hadn't noticed Naomi's reaction, and she hadn't walked into the building._

_ With a glance, she worried about the odd, passionate fight, having heard nothing from afar but distant yelling._

_ Which was, of course, Marik battling his unpleasant other half._

_ He could only be further postponed, he knew._

_ He didn't understand how or why he had managed to resurface right at the moment that he was particularly happy and at peace. Hadn't the Pharaoh banished him forever to wallow in the Shadow Realm?_

_ Profoundly shocked, he was moving forward, half staggering, as if he were locked in the most important fight of his life, one which he could not win without being heavily injured, cut to pieces._

_ Odion had not missed any part of the scene, either; he was also trembling. He knew full well what was occurring inside of his friend's body. His eyes, worried, did not leave him except to glance at Naomi as she re-approached them, unaware of the danger which was threatening all three of them._

_ "Are you okay?" she asked._

_ Marik gasped a sigh, putting a hand over his stomach, as if the evil, well-founded on the inside, was threatening to burst out of it._

_ "Yes…I… just feel a bit ill.. don't worry…" he attempted to reassure._

_ But nobody else could honestly know just how much the black maw was widening under his toes._

_ She offered to help him walk, offering him her arm, but he pushed it away at once, apparently wanting to distance himself from her._

_ And to think that several minutes ago he was only trying to get closer._

_ His behavior was growing more and more bizarre._

_ Did he have some sort of disease which he had not yet disclosed to her? Was it bad? It was, however, the first time she had ever witnessed any symptoms._

_ "I'll see you tomorrow, alright?" he asked as he wobbled into the inn._

_ "…Okay…"_

_ Naomi seemed to understand; she wisely kept back, at his request, and chose instead to go up to her room._

_ But now a true form of concern was weighing down on her._

_ She'd definitely have to come up with another plan._

. . . . . . . . .

Kaiba froze once he got past the threshold, he had pressed himself to move outside, Naomi never leaving the corner of his eye; as if it were nothing she was already at the gate.

"Is something bothering you, sir?"

But Kaiba did not answer the question, busy as he was watching Naomi on the other side of the property. Besides, he wasn't certain that he had even heard anything – just a distant masculine voice – even though the guard was right next to him.

_Naomi…stop!_

He suddenly turned to marble, very conscious of the fact that now his guards were staring at him. But if they hadn't been there, Kaiba believed that he could have sprinted the entire way.

But what had gotten into him to make him act this way before the simple sight of a woman walking away?

What would they understood – the men flanking the door – if he had run to take her by the arm and bring her back inside?

No. Kaiba was now immobile, forbidden from showing any sort of alarm.

Strangely, she then suddenly stopped at the front gates; her fingers, white in the cold, had gripped two of the bars as if readying to push.

_Seto?_

He still had a chance.

But all she had to do was push them open.

Instead, her hands loosened their grasp, and her fingers slid down the bars as if to caress them.

But why would she stop there?

Even her feet seemed heavier, stuck in the mere inch of snow as if they both weighed several tons each.

And the pain in his heart that was tearing him inside out…

Sadness. Desperation.

Pathetic.

Was Seto Kaiba master of his heart and of his destiny?

But wasn't it the sound of his voice which had stopped her from pushing that gate?

For a short instant, she didn't quite know if she had really heard it or if her conscience was playing a bad joke on her, mocking her mercilessly.

But she had stopped.

Kaiba felt his heartbeat begin to return to normal when he saw her resign herself to staying. The tension left him, blown out by a long, silent sigh.

And then he suddenly realized what he had been ready to do, right before everybody's eyes. He had run out after her. Stop her from going any further.

Unconsciously, he wouldn't have allowed himself.

But now that the danger seemed to have passed, she should not know, not seeing him standing there, frenetically awkward.

As lively as he had rushed out, he ran inside, hurrying to close the door behind him.

Naomi was not going to know what was behind her several seconds before.

It was her turn to take a deep sigh.

She had failed this new attempt to leave this place.

Her eyes turned to the sky, then fell back to the street again, catching sight of what lay beyond the gate.

For a second she could have sworn that Kaiba was watching her, eyes brimming with meaning.

Now, she still possessed the strange feeling of being spied upon, but this time, by a small black limousine parked a couple feet away from the entrance.

The glass was tinted, which prevented her from seeing inside. But she had a feeling that someone was purposefully training their eyes on her. A very unpleasant feeling.

Without showing the slightest provocation, she stared back at the vehicle, which, oddly, roared to life and made a u-turn, avoiding driving directly passed her.

No, her intuition would never leave her. And now her intuition was saying that whatever had just occurred was not good. It was too bizarre. Far too much so.

She momentarily could feel the goosebumps all over her body, and it had nothing to do with the coldness of the outside.

No, it was absolutely not good at all.

But, my god, was she really that cursed? And did Kaiba, unintentionally, add a personal touch to it?

. . . . . . . . .

_Never had Marik felt so happy before. He had been waiting impatiently to hold Naomi in his arms for weeks, and she still did not give up the ghost. But she let herself be influenced by music, lightly touching him when she was too deep in her thoughts to know quite what was happening. At least she wasn't flat-out rejecting him._

_ Her body was shaking with a palpable and puerile nervousness. Marik bitterly regretted that it was not due to desire._

_ Her soul remained profoundly disturbed – a wounded bird, a caged animal. As close as he was, Marik could feel the great storm of feelings behind the face that she ducked to avoid his perfectly well._

_ But he pulled her gently towards him, even permitting himself to softly hug her so that she could know of the determination that he had to not want to watch her suffer any longer._

_ Because she _was _in pain – he had seen it when their eyes had first met. And it was one of the many reasons why he had been attracted to this magnificent creature._

_ "Speak to me, Naomi," he said, his breath causing the hair tickling her cheek to stir._

Can't you see that I love you already?

_ But without raising her head, she murmured apologetically:_

_ "Not everything can be said, Marik."_

_ Which, to him, caused her deservedness of an affectionate embrace to again increase._

_ "Naomi," he whispered despite himself, closing his eyes._

_ How he hated to see her so somber._

I'll protect you, Naomi. Nobody will ever hurt you again…

_He tenderly looked at her then, his eyes shining with desire and simultaneously begging that she bend towards his lips to come into contact with them._

_ It almost happened, when, all of a sudden, she bowed her head again._

_ "I'm sorry, Marik…I…I… I can't…"_

Agh! But why? Tell me, Naomi! Give me a chance!

_She was feeling quite disappointed as well. But she couldn't let that show. She was hurting him. For no reason. And that, above all, was what she had sought to avoid._

_ She wasn't ready. For anyone._

_ "Sorry," she repeated, very quietly, before pushing herself away._

_ "Naomi…" he grumbled, unwilling in his heart to stop the embrace._

_ But it wasn't practical to hold her back._

_ So, deeply disappointed, he watched her walk away towards the stairs, towards her room._

_ It was torture._

_ Marik again let himself collapse into a chair, a glass of wine in hand; he would drink away all of the pain and maybe even Naomi's at the same time, if he were lucky._

_. . . . . . . . ._

_ It was one of the most beautiful and pleasing dreams that he had ever experienced; the same one that had been recurring since the infamous warning where he had surprised her emerging from her bath. Except now she was looking at him amorously, standing in the middle of the room, her arms outstretched for him to join her. Her aura was pure and white and strong._

_ Marik felt his body vibrate, relaxing at the sight of her, a proud smile erupting across his lips._

_ Finally. She would abandon herself, and their two beings would be but one._

_ Carefully, he walked forward as if he wanted to miss no part of the apparition, his eyes trained on her, more languorous than before._

_ Suddenly the walls began to move away from each other and the room began to whirl around him, Naomi moving further away each time he managed to catch sight of her. But nothing changed in her attitude, as if she didn't notice the endless spiraling._

_ Then a tall tidal wave rose behind her, threatening to engulf her in red waves; the bathtub had become her shroud. And the dark liquid, blood, was spreading fast over her shoulders, flooding her chest and running down the length of her entire body._

_ "NO!" he shouted, but no sound left his lips._

_ The dream turned into a nightmare._

_ "I'm dreaming. Wake up Marik. Wake up now!"_

_ Powerless and horrified, he saw appear behind her his own image, eyes burning with malice, yet filled with the same blood, brandishing a dagger – his own – over Naomi's throat, yanking her head backwards._

_ "NO!"_

_ Only this time the cry left his mouth and woke Odion with a start._

_ In no time he was at Marik's side. His body was convulsing and he was writhing, shouting like a madman, covered with sweat from head to toe._

_ A very unpleasant shiver washed over Odion, uncertain of who would emerge should he awaken him._

_ It was terrible. But he had to do it._

_ Quivering as much from fear as from outrage, Marik awoke all at once, body slumped in the chair, his eyes wide open, speedily reaching out to yank on something with his hand, which in the case turned out to be his brother's arm._

_ "Odion!" he yelled with a gasp. "Go! Go find Naomi! – please!"_

_ "What?"_

_ Fighting to catch his breath and having shifted to a seated position, Marik ordered him solemnly:_

_ "…she's in danger…run!"_

_ Then he shoved Odion towards the stairs as he tried to come back to reality and chase the vision of horror from his mind._

_ He was going absolutely mental._

_ And then there came the eternal laugh at his ear which repeated to him, "Good, don't you think? Did you like it?"_

_ "…I…hate…you…"_

. . . . . . . . .

Naomi paused at the gate as it opened to let the Kaiba limousine enter. The vehicle stopped as soon as the tail end had cleared the entrance, and Mokuba emerged, running towards her.

He was radiant with joy.

"Naomi!" he shouted as he went to hug her.

She was too shocked to know how to react. And although the gesture hurt her in the stomach slightly, she didn't let him know, but instead wriggled politely from his grasp.

"What the…?" she tried to say.

But she then received a quick kiss on the cheek.

"Thanks! For everything!" he said.

Maybe he should tell her what had happened. But his worry upon seeing her alone, in the middle of the property, stopped him.

"What are you doing out here?"

"Oh…I was out on a walk… I needed to get some fresh air," she replied swiftly, dodging further explanation.

"It's cold out… you look frozen solid. I'll walk back with you, alright?"

She couldn't respond to that.

Why did it seem so important to Mokuba to tell Seto about her and Marik?

He seemed not to feel guilty in the slightest, half giddy. What was going through his mind?

They would have the time to talk about it because she still hadn't managed to leave the property.

"Mokuba… I'll stay here for a few more moments… okay?"

"Er… are you sure? It's kind of cold…"

"That's okay. I'll meet up with you shortly," she assured him before watching him scamper to the front door.

Why the hell did she never ask him that one fucking stupid question?

. . . . . . . . .

_She didn't have to answer you._

Was he wrong?

It was difficult to admit.

Yet…

He had returned to the dark obscurity of his office.

Mokuba had never stopped bothering him about the lack of light, saying it wasn't good for his eyes. Yet he had always managed.

Several knocks against the door tore him from his reverie. Then it opened to reveal his brother.

He immediately trained his eyes on the keyboard, pretending to be busy.

"You wanted to see me, Seto?"

Kaiba breathed out loudly and placed an elbows on the desk, envisioning the dialogue, the other arm reaching out to turn on his bedside lamp.

"Yes, Mokuba."

His face was of ice, and his eyes of steel.

_It's time to tell him_, Mokuba thought with a smile.

Seto quickly took notice of the happiness that filled his little brother but he wasn't in the mood for euphoria. He had far more important things to tell him, despite their recent supply of good fortune.

"I want to know why."

"What?" Mokuba said, whose smile temporarily faltered.

Apparently Kaiba was not in a good mood.

"Let me make something very clear, Mokuba."

"Er…okay…" he responded, now hesitant.

He couldn't remember the last time his brother had acted so austere and serious towards him.

He had often seen him take the same authoritative – yea, arrogant - tone with other people. But not as much with him.

Mokuba went on alert.

"Alright," Kaiba began again. "I've noticed that you've been more…distant…for some time."

Mokuba tried to answer him but Seto cut him off.

"That's perfectly acceptable. You have a right to your own private life and your own secret knowledge. The right to enter and exit this house as you please. You have the right to have whatever friends you wish, and equally to participate in any activities that you want. I respect your ability to choose, Mokuba."

_Ooh, I get it, he's mad because I hid things from him… I guess I should have told him…_

Yet again Mokuba was cut off, this time in mid-thought. Seto was now dead serious.

"It is also true that I have not had much time to be around you recently. I even dare think that I've neglected you a little. And I regret it. I should be more present, more attentive to your needs and – "

"I get it, Seto… with Naomi, that…"

"Exactly!" Seto spat dryly, on the verge of flying off the handle. "Because you've mentioned it, there's one more very important thing that you have to understand right now."

He stopped speaking for several seconds, convinced that he had earned all of Mokuba's attention.

_Yeah… I'm in love, too, Seto… I understand._

"I am certain that you did not mean to do any harm, and I even suspect I know why you did it."

This time Seto's tone sharpened, his attitude as glacial as the tone of voice he had adopted.

"…but… in the future… I do not wish, _EVER again_, that you meddle in the affairs that are strictly between me and Naomi."

A fallen cleaver, Mokuba froze immediately in place, stunned by the threat. Because that's what it was. And a rule.

Seto had visibly had much trouble in pronouncing his declaration, one that he must have decided upon before he had even known about Marik.

"Do you understand, Mokuba? I will not allow, neither from you nor from anybody else, any imposition between us. If you believe that you have other bits of knowledge concerning Naomi, keep them to yourself."

_Woah… this isn't like Seto. What happened to my brother?_

_ But… Seto… I have something to tell you… and…_

Confused and hurt, Mokuba didn't dare to look at him anymore, as if he were suddenly the most insensible of men. He realized, too late, that he had made a big mistake.

But how could he have known that Naomi would have become an object of contention between them? As long as she was here, as much as was in her power, yet without intention, she was driving them apart.

"But I…" he sputtered useless.

He was again crossly interrupted.

"No 'buts', Mokuba! I will no longer tolerate any sort of intrusion. You have been warned. Have I made my point?"

Seto wasn't completely unaware of the grief and deception on his face. He felt it, too, despite the strength of his reprimand. But Mokuba had shown the worst possible indiscretion, an intolerable level of recklessness. And things were already so difficult between him and Naomi that he could leave nothing to chance.

"…yes, big brother…sorry."

Kaiba stopped himself from closing his eyes and bending down himself to beg forgiveness for hurting him so much. But he thought that had to, just this once, be perfectly inflexible. So he let a small silence simmer between them.

Mokuba stayed there in the middle of the room, completely taken aback, almost like he had just received a concussion, searching for inaudible words to excuse himself, to leave and brood over what had really just happened.

Then he sighed loudly.

"Very good," Seto said in a monotone.

Kaiba ceased vilifying him; he had said and done enough. More than his brotherly – or his fatherly – heart was capable of supporting.

"Close the door behind you, Mokuba."

And now he was treating him like a servant.

_But Seto… I have something important to tell you, too…_

Except Mokuba kept this thought to himself.

His heart shattered, he left the room, completely overwhelmed.

Never had he before been victim to his pure indifference. That was probably what was the root of most of this pain. As if, suddenly, his brother had made himself inaccessible.

When the door clicked shut, Kaiba let himself slump down in his armchair. It seemed he did everything wrong.

And he was sorry that he had approached him so heartlessly.

He had been stern…maybe too stern… with his beloved little brother.

He sighed, and then whispered:

"No… forgive me, Mokuba. But I can't allow the slightest error… not anymore…"

And it was in that precise moment, when he most ardently wished to find peace at last, that he suddenly realized that everything was really just beginning.

* * *

* Marty Bags, _You're Not Me_


	20. Chapter 20

Apparences belongs to Melzart, and Yu-Gi-Oh! is copyrighted to Kazuki Takahashi.

* * *

Chapter 20

_Disorder_

When Naomi set foot in the entrance hall, an even weightier atmosphere then normal seemed to hang over the mansion. Of course the conflict with Kaiba certainly counted for something. But what grabbed her attention in particular was when she passed by Mokuba, earlier so joyous, as he drifted through the hall with his tail between his legs. He was heading for the main staircase, certainly to go to his room on the third story.

He seemed troubled, darkened by an invisible storm cloud.

"Mokuba?"

But he continued on his way as if he had heard nothing, too profoundly anchored in his thoughts.

So, louder and more clearly, she repeated his name.

This time, he stopped just before the first stair, then barely turned to face her; she took notice of all of the suffering and disturbance which was perturbing his tortured spirit. He was shaken, very much so, his face like the snow outside.

_What the…?_

_ Seto didn't…_

_ Oh, no. He didn't dare._

But Naomi believed it wiser to let him keep on walking, thinking that if he wished to talk, he'd know where to find her.

_I'm so sorry, Moki. This is all my fault._

She felt saddened by the young man's attitude. Her eyes did not leave him the entire way up the stairs until he moved out of sight.

She sighed loudly as her face lit up determinedly, her steps now voluntarily taking her towards Kaiba's office.

Did she even have the right to come to the defense of his little brother.

This point – quite questionable – concerned her. After all, Kaiba was not a man whose actions come out of nowhere, pushed by instinct, but instead by a decision made in advance, reflected upon and well-calculated. The action was surely premeditated. But for what purpose? Why get angry at his brother?

So, what argument would she use once she walked through the door? Simply a pure affection for Mokuba, or more simply and in her opinion more fairly, the innate desire to protect him and to take that anger – Kaiba's – on her own shoulders. Besides, wasn't she responsible for the entire quarrel?

_Grr… he had no right._

Again the scales were tipping to find balance, weighing the pros and cons of the odd situation.

To think that everything would have been so much simpler if she had just pushed that gate open.

Forced to admit, perhaps, that…

Again she stopped just before the door and waited a moment for knocking to announce her presence.

She sighed deeply.

. . . . . . . . .

_That's her._

It was if he were expecting her.

Yes. Maybe not for the same reason. But it had been several minutes since he had first begun to suspect her arrival, even though he wasn't the type that normally dragged things out. Well he did on exceptional occasions. But this time, many explanations were needed on both sides. Again, he took on the air of being prideful, and when she opened the door he purposefully ignored her.

"I'm busy," he said, not even bothering to move his head from the screen.

The slap in the face had its desired impact when she appeared to stop in surprise. She seemed destabilized by the sudden "lack of civility".

_What? Too busy?_

He repeated himself.

"Not now, I'm too busy."

She stared at him.

_What is that supposed to mean?_

"I need to talk to you," she risked saying, finding the courage to know that she couldn't let him intimidate her.

_I can understand that you don't want to talk to me… but come on._

Kaiba stopped tapping on his keyboard, and, looking at her angrily, he almost murmured:

"Go away. I need to be alone. I don't have time to talk."

_What? Go away?_

He was lying, surely. Flat-out lying. Perhaps like he had never done before in his entire life.

He had to assure himself of his loyalty. And the only way he had at his disposition, at the moment, was provoking her. So he would watch her reactions, watch what was occurring in her soul.

And what he read on her face could crack his icy mask; she was stupefied, and definitely injured, by the rejection. Kaiba saw the sadness in her eyes just before they redressed themselves in anger and determination.

But she wouldn't give him the advantage of scrutinizing her for long, as she turned on her heels to leave.

"Fine," she said.

He had goofed – she was sincere, like he had always really known.

And the cruelty which he had just demonstrated to her flew back in his face at full force when he saw her muttering very quietly, as if talking to herself.

At any rate, it wouldn't be too long before –

_Idiot! Gah!_

He had never before wanted to take back his words; hadn't he just opened the front door wide, him, the one who cloistered himself _behind _doors, every window, every fissure which traversed the walls of his domain?

Quickly, he stood up and fumbled after her, grasping her arm.

"No! Stay… Naomi."

_What did I just do?_

Kaiba suddenly wondered how he could have ended up this quickly away from his desk and at the door before she had even time to open it again.

"I meant…"

_I meant that this isn't what I wanted, Naomi._

She was still quite angry; he felt it as she stood there. But she appeared to calm at the unexpected touch.

"What did you do to Mokuba?"

The tone she used demanded an immediate response. Why?

_Mokuba?_

He hadn't been expecting that. He would never would have reprimanded his brother just to find that he was still standing between him and Naomi.

However, it was for the better. If he were alone, Kaiba would have smiled with a plotted audacity and a smirk would have swept across his lips; it was just so ironic. The triangle didn't seem to want – or be able to – to form solidly, but it was obvious that the sides could no longer definitively separate.

But the smile did not come to him, quite simply because he was in no position to do so. It was too foolish.

He sighed loudly, as if exasperated.

"Naomi, don't get between my brother and me."

She did not seem at all satisfied for the thing that thought it was a response.

"What did you do to him, Seto?"

This time, he did not answer, letting her guess what he could no longer say.

"I know you're mad at me."

_What? Me mad at you? But – _

"But towards your brother? That's something I _can't _understand. He needs you, now more than ever. Don't you see that?"

She had almost spat the last remark, and she was now reddening in anger.

Kaiba kept calm, as if none of her words had any effect on him. But he could not keep to himself the confession that he had made.

"He's not the only one… who needs me," he said sharply with a tone only half-filled with confidence.

Naomi whipped around.

"What?"

_What do you mean by that, Seto? Who – _

"Besides, I'm glad that you're worried about him," he continued, "but your concerns are completely unjustified. I love my brother. I don't love him any less now."

Which temporarily lightened Naomi's spirits.

Of course he still loved him. But that had never really been part of the question.

"He made a mistake, that's all. And he has to face the consequences. It's a universal rule."

"Mistake?" she questioned, suddenly confused.

_Like me, I guess?_

_ Yes, you're right, I made a mistake. And I will be forever punished for it…_

But this wasn't about her.

"And you didn't stop and think for even a second that you could have been wrong, did you?"

_I'm not always right. Naomi…that's false._

Kaiba stared at her completely emotionlessly. However, he knew that he had pushed one of her most sensible buttons.

This wasn't what he had thought would happen.

"He's not like you, Seto."

And now she was daring to…

"And I think you went too hard on him."

_Grr… Naomi, stop meddling in our affairs._

"I have nothing to say to you about my brother," he admitted, straightening to his full height.

Hurt by the comment, she lowered her voice.

"I see."

Kaiba could not keep his anger hidden for long.

"No! You don't see anything, Naomi!"

_Nothing that I try to do for you… you see none of it!..._

But did she have to understand his assertion?

_I don't see anything? What should I be _seeing?

Calm seemed to come back to Kaiba's person.

Quietly, he went to stand in front of her, raising his hands to her shoulders as if to take her into his arms.

"It's true that I was firm, a bit tough, on him."

_And I didn't do it full-heartedly, I swear._

"…but I have to ask you, Naomi…"

His voice had softened again.

"…don't try to sort things out between us. Keep out of it, alright?"

"If I think it's my fault, then I don't think I can," she spat back, more determined than ever to drill her point into his brain. "It's because he told you about Marik, isn't it?"

Kaiba gave another long sigh and turned his head, annoyed that the conversation had come back to…this.

Yes, he was angry about that, and she had seen right through him. Again.

"Oh, so you're not mad at _him_, you're mad at _me._"

"I am not mad at you, Naomi."

Kaiba felt the ferocious hatred he held for Marik blossom once again in his stomach.

_You're not? Do you have any idea what you look like? Lucky you're not actually angry, because things might actually be _wrong _then…_

"Yes, you are. And let me make this clear – my past does not concern you. Not anymore than yours does me."

_Mea culpa. I know you're right. At least partially._

Once again he swallowed his pride; despite himself, he complied:

"Exactly," he admitted.

_Calm down, Naomi…_

Naomi flinched at the confession too easily. She was expecting him to explode, to fight back. But instead he had given up without protest, and very modestly in the process.

"It's none of my business."

How bitterly he now swallowed his words. But what other weapons remained with which to fight, other than the gift of letting things slide?

_But it makes me so mad to think that…_

_ Grr….stop, Kaiba!_

Softly he went to pull her into his arms and he saw with joy that she offered no resistance.

"I didn't want to…" he murmured as he held her against him.

It was so crazy how he wanted her body every second of every minute.

Was he still backing down, lowering his guns?

Yes.

But nobody could see, nobody could know.

_ I love your smell, Naomi… _he thought, taken by a sudden and irresistible wish to feel her against him. It even seemed to him that every day she was becoming more and more beautiful. Especially after this little senseless altercation.

After all, weren't his arms the place where she could lose herself, by his simple touch?

_Seto… why do things always have to end this way? Wait… is he doing it on purpose? Does he know that I can guess everything when…_

"Seto," she murmured without raising her head.

Kaiba did not respond, too busy enjoying her scent, eyes closed as if ready to faint.

Except that he had been caught in the act this time: Naomi quickly changed her mind.

What if he could guess everything, too, upon contact? Could it be that he was truly sincere, and he had never hoped to manipulate her or cause her any harm? Was it possible that she was not the only one who lost their minds once their bodies were entwined?

Kaiba always seemed strong. As he always had been. And like always even evil tongues seemed okay on this point. She had almost been led to believe that he was only out to control her and to do with her what he wished. And tossing in the waves of his immense ocean, trying to keep her head above the water, Kaiba was there, the one to lead her to safety?

But although a voice in her head had always whispered to her that she had been wrong, this was perhaps the precise moment when the idea definitively conquered her: Kaiba was not playing with either her or her feelings. Not anymore than he had been up to that point. He was not mocking them.

On the contrary.

As for if she could trace some sort of history with him now, she decided to find out for herself. The moment was right, she thought.

"Mokuba has many things to say to you… please, take some time to listen to him," she whispered between two tender kisses.

Kaiba stepped back slightly to look at her more clearly.

"You seem to care a lot about him."

"Yes," she said, prey to the feeling of being in his arms.

"In that case," he murmured as he approached her lips, irresistibly attracted, "I'll do my best…"

_Your wish is my command._

Was she really in a position to ask and demand what she wanted of him?

Now?

It took every appearance of being so, due to the strong reaction that she had given him.

Kaiba no longer restrained himself from quenching his desire, even if he were to believe that she was seducing him. Which is what she was doing, really. But he wasn't really an exception, either. Besides, it was true that he couldn't resist a single one of her wishes. At least completely.

He swept her off of her feet and delicately placed her on the desk as he kissed her furiously, and he began to take her clothes off, one by one.

"Seto! Not here… someone could walk in…"

Leaning down close to her ear, his lips brushed over her cheek as he whispered:

"…I'll kill whoever walks through that door…"

It was corny. But it made her smile.

He was ignoring his fears, running all over her body with his tongue. In a voluntary gesture he swept his arm across his desk, pushing every object in its path, including his computer, which then tumbled several feet onto the floor.

_I want… you, Naomi. It's all that matters._

And Naomi found herself on her back, thighs spread, receiving Kaiba's member as he moved in and out, slowly at first.

_I have to fight back… he's doing whatever he likes with me… what has he done to me?_

_ Why must everything end up with me in his arms? I feel so weak… totally powerless… I forget it all… I lose my mind every time… I hate it when he –_

Naomi couldn't hold back an intense shiver. Which of course caught Kaiba's attention.

_Tell me… that you belong to me, Naomi… to me alone… completely… _Kaiba thought as his kisses grew more passionate, more hurried, following a slightly more accelerated rhythm, more urgent in the center of his chest.

"Yes…" she whispered, pulling him towards her as if responding to Kaiba's secret wants.

All of her flesh was consumed beneath his fingers as if he were branding her, so much so that she thought that the letters 'KC' which represented his company would be able to be seen all over her body.

Why did they keep on fighting? The useless battles which lost any of their meaning once they were both trapped in the inferno of their desires? Two opponents who surrendered and abandoned themselves before even engaging in combat?

"Ohhh…." she sighed, her face slightly distorted by a pained grin.

Kaiba was once more angered by the disagreeable memory.

"Wait…wait," he breathed as he raised her carefully and held her to him.

The thought of seeing her suffer was, each and every time, unthinkable.

At that moment it was far easier for him to move when he placed her on top of him, and she could also now take him at her leisure.

So be it.

Never having broken their embrace, he brought her to the sofa.

It was crazy how he loved those star-struck eyes, even when he was acting cold. She could melt him entirely.

"Promise me… Seto…"

"What?"

_Grr… she knows full well that I can't refuse her. Especially not right now!_

Had he finally gotten to her? Did she understand?

Definitely.

Between two feverish kisses, she murmured into his ear:

"…promise me that you'll find time for…"

_Mokuba._

_ Grrr…she…_

"…I promise…"

Kaiba hastened his rhythm, lifting Naomi's back with one hand and fondling her with the other. And he earned, to his immense pleasure, an end to her complaint as she placed her lips against his.

_One day… you will not hold back, _he swore as he let their tongues cross.

Nothing could bring him more happiness then to hear her moan in pleasure, beg him to continue or to stop. And that day would come. The day would come, also, probably, when his grip on her would be completely irreversible.

Yes, that day would also come.

But for the time being, he had nothing to worry about. As long as things stayed simple...

. . . . . . . . .

_A violent storm was raging in Athens; the lightning crashed down in threatening zigzags and did not appear to want to soften or move onwards._

_ Naomi had pulled the curtains, mortally terrified. She never was able to deal with the groans of rage in the sky. For as long as she could remember, she had always been horrified of thunder._

_ In these times, her plan was always the same, a ritual: lights shut off, candles only for lighting, and even the windows were shut to not support the idea of the wind stirring up a current. Just in case._

_ Yes. As a little girl, she hadn't dared to move from beneath her covers as she counted the seconds between each blast of thunder. It was stupid. She had failed to be hurt so often that she smugly doubted that a lightning bolt would end up finishing her. But she wouldn't take chances._

_ Knocking sounds against the door didn't convince her to be any braver. So after she heard the voice, she called for it to enter instead of answering personally._

_ The door opened to reveal Marik who, in the demi-obscurity, was forced to squint._

Oh…. this might not be the best time.

_"Naomi?"_

_ She didn't respond right away._

_ Marik quickly took note of her fear._

_ In a flash he found himself on his knees beside her bed, dying with worry._

_ "Naomi… what's…"_

_ A wretched roar rattled the inn, causing Naomi to jump; her nervousness had given her a practically convulsive fit of shivering._

_ "Oh… so it's that."_

_ Marik placed his hand affectionately upon her own._

_ "Don't stay up here alone, Naomi. Come join us downstairs."_

_ "No."_

_ It was so childish. And yet it was so touching. She looked petrified. And Marik didn't know if he should smile at the infantile fear, or if he should, instead, worry even more._

_ One thing was for certain: she needed somebody._

_ "So may I stay?"_

_ "No… I'm fine."_

_ Softly, he turned his head towards her._

_ "Either you join us downstairs… or I'm staying here with you."_

_ She didn't have to think about it – Marik seemed determined to hold her to his ultimatum. She would have even thanked him generously if she hadn't known for a little while the feelings that were causing him to act so chivalrous._

_ Whether she was alone or not was not going to end up making any difference in her behavior. She was going to flinch at every thunderclap, bury herself ever deeper under her covers._

_ "May I?"_

_ Marik had opened his arms, signifying to her that he was ready to welcome her and to hold her, to comfort her, serve as a guardian._

_ "I'll be fine, Marik."_

_ It wasn't that she had no desire to – no human desire to be in someone's arms. And perhaps one day the need would reemerge. But in her mind, it was purely and simply abuse of the situation, because nothing would be able to make her stay._

_ Marik saw her hesitation, but he refused to lower his arms._

Please, Naomi. It's so little…

Besides… don't you need to know that someone is there for you?

I'm here, Naomi. Don't push me away…

_An even more powerful snarl of thunder than the previous blows threw her into his arms; and he was happy to reinforce the embrace with an immense pleasure and a smile he had difficulty hiding._

_ "It's okay, Naomi. I'm here. Okay?"_

_ For several days the evil being seemed to have gone back from whence he came. Which is why Marik was now allowing himself to approach Naomi again. He had blamed a temporary illness for his long absence and delegated Odion to look after her in the meantime. But now that the danger seemed to have passed, he dared to go after her once more. Wasn't she, in fact, one of his greatest sources of happiness? He would have to see._

_ It was crazy how she smelled like flowers. So sweet, so beautiful, so vulnerable._

_ Marik doubled the ardor of his grip, keeping her quite close to him._

_ The storm was tumbling on and rain drenched the windows, lighting up the room with a flash every so often._

I have…to get away… he'll think…

Yeah, why not? Just once… once… just to feel a body against me…

_It was true that the will was quite persuasive in that moment when she was trembling so violently. Just to have someone close by… someone quite pleasant at that… someone that could listen to her, protect her… just once… just once._

_ She was still trembling and Marik hated feeling so powerless to calm her torments. If only it were in his power to make her forget it all._

_ Long ago that power had been his. He had manipulated hundreds of people for his own gain. But that wasn't him. And none of them had been Naomi._

_ Affectionately his lips passed through Naomi's hair as he tightened the embrace upon her frail body._

_ Her smell filled his nostrils and drifted to his brain, leaving him dangerously intoxicated with lust._

_ "Take her."_

_ Marik flinched, his world suddenly crumbling as he heard the hoarse and unpleasant voice._

_ "She's at your fingertips, you idiot. She's waiting for you."_

_"Naomi," he breathed as he felt the courage leave his chest._

_ Even his skin had paled, a striking contrast to his normal skin tone._

If you love me, Naomi… maybe he'll go away forever…

I need you… help me.

_Tenderly, he lifted her chin with his fingers._

No. He wouldn't. I… I…

_This time Marik did not hold back as he pressed his lips to hers with a pronounced voracity._

_ "Yes…we'll taunt her… make her shriek in pleasure…"_

No!

_Marik was suddenly struck by the need to run out the door._

_ But Naomi was still afraid. And she had no courage right now._

_ He was caught between two flames – one to not hurt her due to the monster inside of him, the other to save her from danger by suddenly getting up and leaving, abandoning her in fact. He wasn't a coward._

What is he…?

_Naomi was aghast as he saw her plunge back into her mouth, opening it forcefully with his tongue as it searched for her own. And his hands, more solid than hers, were soaring across her body with an abnormal amount of violence._

_ She almost began to suffocate as Marik's hand suddenly plunged into her underwear, his fingers seeking her privates. Naomi began to shiver even more violently._

Marik? What is he…? He wouldn't…

_"Hahaha! Look how she likes it! Go on, push inside, she's dying to be tamed…"_

_ "Marik!" she yelled, as much as fear as from anger._

_ He was ready to abuse her without any remorse. However, it wasn't him._

No! I won't hurt her! _Marik thought, fighting to pull his hand back. But his alter ego made him shove her to the ground and to snake between her legs._

_ "Marik!" she screamed again. "NO!"_

_ He was gasping, his eyes were repulsive. He was fighting a war inside. An enemy, worse than any other, the one he had the most trouble in battling, the one pushed by nothing but a bloody need for violence._

I'm sorry… I don't want to, Naomi… not like this… I… he's making me…

_But how could he explain to her the existence of his internal demon? A demon which, additionally, took over his entire body and then vanished again as it saw fit?_

_ Marik had no more control of himself as he ripped her underwear off of her now, whose remains he then tossed somewhere onto the floor behind him._

_ She was having a panic attack, more terrified than ever, struggling furiously under Marik's body, which was so heavy…_

No. Not this. Not this. I beg you…

_"Marik! Marik!" she was screaming on the verge of tears._

_ She hadn't the strength to fight against his force. Because without knowing it, she understood that she no longer was actually dealing with Marik._

_ Despite it all, she tried to call out to him, praying as hard as she could that he would resurface, against all odds._

_ "You have no right to! Let me go!" she was yelling._

_ A very raspy voice came from Marik's throat, whose bloodshot eyes were staring at her in glee._

_ "Oh, but I have every right. That dumbass doesn't know how to use a woman. But you… we're going to have fun, my dear…"_

_ It was disgusting – such words said with so little regard._

_ "No!"_

Grr… Naomi…I'm sorry… _Marik was secretly fighting._

_ With one hand he kept her pinned to the ground he made her kiss the front of his pants, already threatening her with his hardened member, when he felt himself be thrown backwards._

_ Marik was fighting back. He never would have permitted such an atrocity. Not to his Naomi._

_ She was gasping to catch her breath, watching what might have been Marik convulse._

_ And the storm was raging outside._

_ She quickly covered herself up back in a sheet, backing up against the wall just behind the bed._

_ He shot back up, pants still lowered, and he had begun a strange dance which consisted of him shaking his head from side to side as he held it._

_ "Asshole! Fuck off!"_

Go on. Take her. She's all yours. You know you want to. Everything's ready. Show her what you're made of.

_"No! Go away!" he roared in outrage._

_ Naomi's eyes never left him as she sat there shaking like a leaf, body drenched in sweat from the fight she had put up against him._

_ A very bright flash of lightning lit up the room, allowing her to clearly see Marik in the mirror, for a short instant. But she would never forget what she saw then._

_ His hair was standing completely on end like needles, his eyes evil, face warped and deformed by hatred. Another Marik which she had never seen before. An alter ego._

_ That vicious assault could not have come from the Marik she knew._

_ Then the two of them, both him and that being, turned to the mirror and began to converse in lieu of the convulsions._

_ "Take her! It's for her own good!"_

_ "No! Not like that! Go away!"_

_ "You think she needs you, don't you? You stupid mortal!"_

_ "Grr… I don't know. But she sure as hell doesn't need YOU!"_

_ Seizing what he could easily find with his hands, Marik suddenly threw a chair into the mirror, too horrified with himself to dare glance behind him._

_ "Go away!" he cried as he watched the pieces scatter and fall onto the floor._

_ Then suddenly everything was calm._

_ Marik was having difficulty breathing, gasping as if he had been deprived of air for hours._

Naomi!

_ He had forgotten during that fight which seemed to last an eternity. Then she was his first thought; so fast that he knew that he had won._

_ He hurried to put his pants back on and cover himself. She certainly didn't need to be seeing anything there._

_ Nausea. The shame and terror were knotted so tightly in his stomach he thought he could vomit. But he had to hold back long enough to check up on how Naomi was faring._

_ Pitifully._

_ Even in the complete darkness, he felt her shock, her destruction by the inhumane aggression._

_ "Argh…"_

_ She had stayed the entire time in the corner of the room, shielded by a sheet, like a wounded dog._

_ Hadn't he worsened her pain enough, him, the one who promised himself that he could end it?_

_ Fuck pride._

_ She was shaking more profoundly than ever before when he shoved aside the bed to fall onto his knees by her side. When he looked up at her she had tears in her eyes._

_ "I'm sorry… I'm so sorry… I didn't want to..." he kept repeating, his voice choked with the sound of whimpering._

_ She shook her head hard, pushing away his hand._

_ How could he explain this? Was there a reasonable method to make her understand that he was never the one who had just made her undergo so much pain?_

_ "Get out. Please," she whispered, on the verge of bursting out crying._

_ Yet her voice was filled with sadness, with disappointment. Not anger._

_ "I…I'm so sorry, Naomi…"_

My sweet…

_Marik abandoned the idea of staying any longer._

_ There was nothing he could say that would be sufficient to pardon himself._

_ The shame and remorse would cling to him until the end of his days, with him every cruel minute._

_ And to think he had believed the burden to be behind him – how cynically ironic, now._

_ He sighed loudly, hesitating as he stood._

_ Even at his full height, her eyes remained nailed to the floor._

_ "That wasn't me," he murmured, so quietly he doubted whether she could hear him._

_ Then he left, his heart pulverized into a thousand tiny pieces._

_ "I'm sorry."_

_. . . . . . . . ._

_ She had to do something._

_ She scrambled up and without even taking the time to shower threw clothes back onto herself and then hurried to pack what was strictly necessary for travel. Again, she hadn't been able to defend herself and had missed, again, to leave someone with her complete trust._

_ Of course she understood that Marik wasn't the one controlling himself. But it was also for certain that she couldn't stand up to his alter ego._

_ No. Maybe another life, maybe the one before this one, wouldn't be any better._

_ Fuck the storm outside. Whether she was struck by lightning or not was her destiny._

. . . . . . . . .

Naomi nuzzled affectionately against Kaiba's calm body. She was still shaking when she attempted to sit up.

_What the…_

Kaiba's arms softly held her back.

_What's wrong? What are you hiding?_

Oddly, the sky had turned gray, threatening to storm at any moment.

"What?" she asked quietly, not wanting to startle him.

She seemed suddenly distressed by the temperature, due to a distant echo which sounded like a low growl in the air, maybe miles away. But it did not slip past Naomi's fine sense of hearing unnoticed, and she immediately stiffened.

Kaiba raised an eyebrow, seeing that something was bothering her. He felt like investigating further.

What had he done or said to provoke such behavior?

_Be strong! Come on… you can defend yourself now, it's not like before… nothing like when – _

Oh, how worried she was.

Was Kaiba suddenly going to transform into a monster as well? It was an idiotic question. Because she already knew the answer.

It was idiotic like the memory which suddenly came back to her then. Was it maybe because she had spoken about it earlier, maybe quite simply the fact that that disturbing recollection came back to her with every storm now? She couldn't quite say for certain. But she tried terribly hard to keep it from Kaiba.

Barely lost in her thoughts before he brought her ever so delicately back towards him, having ceased for a moment to attempt to meet his eyes to read what he wanted to know.

Something was scaring her. And that's all that Kaiba understood, which was more than necessary for him to keep his grip on her. For her to understand that he was there for her.

A horrid thunderclap, followed by a long lightning bolt, cut through the entire mansion.

Which caused both of them to jump.

It seemed that Kaiba was about to stand, as if to assure himself that it was just thunder and not some recidivist readying to raid the mansion. But he stopped as soon as he felt Naomi's body shiver even more; she wasn't scared. She was completely terrified. Like he had never seen her before. But he simultaneously doubted that _that _could be one of her few weaknesses. He knew of only one other. And that one was worse. The one against which he could do nothing. But to see her so vulnerable filled him with the urgent need to look after her. For the better.

Holding her even more firmly between his arms, he had to stop himself from smiling.

"You want me to turn the lights on in the foyer?"

But Naomi seemed more attuned to the thunder that was still miles away.

_This is so stupid. He has to want to laugh at me, I'm sure of it. Just relax, Naomi. Relax…_

Only she stayed nailed in place, a plan which wasn't too disagreeable.

But Kaiba had, over her and over this moment, an advantage.

"Naomi," he breathed as he tightened his grasp again.

This time he no longer wished to laugh, understanding that behind that fear other dark memories – or something worse - was hidden.

In his protective grip, there where nothing could touch her, she was persuaded at present that she had found, to her astonishment, a bit of calm and appeasement.

Seto was not going to transform into something else.

Seto was not going to creep out from under the bed, a hideous and malicious creature.

Seto wasn't even going to mock her. Nor take advantage of the situation, as comical, irrational and senseless as it must seem, not even with his icy blue eyes.

No. Seto was there. Her safe haven, her compass. The welcoming territory she so desperately wanted but had never found before. She had to do nothing but let herself go; everything was suddenly so easy. Life beside Seto Kaiba, whom she had treated like a monster, was becoming sweeter and more beautiful than anything. It was so obvious.

The happiness hurt her so much that the desire to burst into tears wracked her. But would he have seen beyond all the lamentations and litanies? Doubtlessly what was torturing her so much was that the brief period of happiness had deeply wounded her. Because she had not known it before, and she had no right to it now.

It was agony to feel any joy by his side.

But why hadn't she known that years earlier? Why?

The answer was again too simple: he never would have loved her. He barely would have noticed her if he had seen her so weak, so detestable. So deplorable, so pitiable.

This bitter thought made her head rise, and she suddenly breathed in.

Hadn't she said that one day that the lightning could strike her, should that be her destiny?

"I'm going to go see Mokuba… see if he's alright," she whispered uncertainly.

Kaiba heard the choked-down sob in her voice.

"Naomi… I'm sure he's fine," he said, although he himself wanted to check up on him.

_Better than you are._

So he tried to hold her against him. But she kept fighting to become free.

He was worried. She felt that.

_Let go of me, Seto, please…_

"I'm going anyway," she insisted courageously, despite the lightning which could be seen illuminating the house.

Again he held her back, convinced that he had to let her one of her old demons, despite the will that he had to fight them himself with his bare hands if need be.

"There's just a price to pay if you leave this room," he pleased himself in teasing her, hoping above all to alleviate the unbearable tension which was buzzing inside of Naomi's body.

She sighed gently, recognizing that he was trying to understand what she was feeling. Without knowing anything. So she bent to his "demand" with more pleasure than she anticipated when she avidly kiss his lips. She even added more to embrace around his neck, which told Kaiba that she appreciated his concern. He had to admit it.

_Naomi…_

. . . . . . . . .

God, she loathed this house. Even more so at the end of the afternoon during a thunderstorm.

It was dark everywhere and she felt like walking on tiptoe in the black and across the powerful bursts of lighting which continued unceasingly as she made her way through the third floor corridor.

She wasn't quick about it, and on the contrary, walked very slowly, barely daring to touch the walls.

But it seemed to her that with every step, a door would open and a hobgoblin would rush out to jump on top of her.

But she regained her courage when she thought of Mokuba alone in his room, probably also in darkness. Sad, disappointed, let down. But most of all alone.

At last the door to his room was before her.

"Come in," he said with little enthusiasm when he heard her knock.

"Hey," she said upon entering.

Mokuba was seated on his bed, his toes touching the floor, head bowed down low as he looked at old photographs.

Photographs of him and his brother.

"Oh, hey, Nao."

"Can I join you?"

He sighed.

His mood hadn't changed. He was so sad.

"If you want," he claimed nonchalantly.

She went to sit by his side.

"So… is something wrong? You wanna talk about it?"

"Psht. Not really. Not like it'd do any good."

"Wanna know something? I don't like seeing you like this. Not at all."

He flinched slightly.

"But it's not your fault, Nao. Just a little brotherly quarrel, that's all. Don't worry, I'll get over it."

An enormous noise, so loud it was almost like a bulldozer smashing into the wall.

Naomi jumped and, without realizing what she was doing, almost wrapped herself around Mokuba.

"Hey, what's the matter with you?" he said before realizing the acidity of the tone he was using. He began to understand Naomi's phobia.

"Oh…sorry…I didn't know," he continued immediately to excuse himself after being so prompt in wanting to push her away.

But she had already distanced herself, causing a new silence between them, an irritated one.

"Er… guess we should be glad my brother's not here and he doesn't know, 'cuz otherwise…"

Mokuba smiled amusedly, his lips twitching as if readying to laugh.

"Otherwise what?"

She certainly didn't need to ask because Kaiba already knew, for at least several good minutes anyway. But Mokuba's reaction interested her.

At least it changed her ideas a bit.

Seto barely prevented himself from laughing; surreptitiously he had followed Naomi in the dark, just in case. And that had brought him to Mokuba's room. Except he remained incognito in the hall.

"Well…let's just say.. just so you know… my brother isn't afraid of anything… so he had to know that you were scared of storms. I'd better not think about what he might do… you know, laugh. Really loud!"

Kaiba stood frozen. Could it be that even Mokuba didn't know him any better than _that_? In reality, he wasn't entirely wrong. With anyone else he would have laughed out his lungs, certainly. But concerning Naomi… so many things no longer fell into place.

"You think?" she asked, herself amused.

"Oh, yeah, I'm sure of it," he kept saying. "But, say… how did it get to be such a problem?"

She wasn't sure if she should respond to his curiosity.

"Honestly… I don't know. For as long as I can remember, I've always hated storms."

Then she suddenly stopped.

"What? That's it? Come on, you can tell me, I promise I won't tell Seto."

She gave a nervous laugh.

"No, really, I don't know why."

"Is it a bad memory or something?"

"Maybe..."

_Marik… he certainly didn't help._

"…that might be right."

But it wouldn't bring her any justice anyway because she had hated them well before she ever met him.

No, the source of the fear went further back than Marik, and, oddly enough, into quasi-analogical circumstances.

"So… how was your day?" she asked, eager to change the topic of conversation.

Mokuba's face lit back up again.

He was hopping on the bed, wondering whether or not he should tell her now.

But he couldn't take it anymore. He grabbed her hands and looked her straight in the eye.

"Can I tell you a secret?"

"Of course," she replied on the spot, chasing away all of her bad thoughts.

He waited for a moment, again saddened by the fact that the person he was about to confide to was not his brother. But because she didn't seem to be too bothered, Naomi was his next true friend.

Solemnly, he cleared his voice after another thunderclap, this one farther away, not as easily heard.

"Nao…today…"

He breathed in deeply, as if looking for courage.

"…I had my first kiss!"

In the hallway, Kaiba had stiffened once more.

_What?_

_ Oh, Mokuba, you should have told me…_

_ But it was me who didn't listen to him! GAH!_

Ashamed.

Yes, Seto Kaiba was very ashamed, caught completely off guard.

It seemed to him that things were becoming more and more difficult for him to manage. Not only with Naomi, but he was beginning to neglect his brother more and more to the point that he was no longer available for him.

That was over. He wouldn't miss another moment, especially not one as important as this one in the life of a young man.

His little brother was in love and he had known nothing about it.

He had failed completely.

Beaten, his head slackened.

He would have to fight in the future. And he was going to fight hard.

If he had to redouble his efforts, he would redouble them.

But he was not going to fail anymore.

He just needed a little more time.

* * *

Wow, this was a long chapter... I'm surprised I could do it all in one day! (Or that I had enough free time...)


	21. Chapter 21

The original French story _Apparences_ belongs to Melzart, and the Yu-Gi-Oh! franchise belongs to Kazuki Takahashi.

* * *

Chapter 21

_A Wasted Effort  
_

Soon he would have to run away, a small child caught in the act.

But his feet stayed nailed to the floor, totally riveted by a gravity doubled in intensity by his own culpability.

Kaiba clenched his fists, head bent; so many things had been escaping him over the past couple of weeks. It really was torture.

The more things that happened, the more they created a labyrinth as much around himself than they did actually effect people in reality. The three of them were trapped souls, whirling about like weather vanes without stabilizing or liberating themselves from the surrounding storm.

It was neither expected, or normal, that Mokuba confess anything to anybody other than himself – especially moments as intimate and precious as that. Memories that would jealously remain the secret thoughts of his younger sibling unless he were to unveil them.

However, wasn't all of that his own fault?

So many things had become clear since the beginning. It was just thus. He had respected the silence of one to appease the other. And the other was Mokuba.

But what was restraining him from walking into that room and talking to him, listening to him, like he used to?

Everything had become so complicated since Naomi arrived. There wasn't room for her alone. And very egotistically Kaiba had desired had even hoped it would happen that way ever since they met. Maybe even before.

He seemed forced to admit now that he by paying the price he had centupled the toll required of his little brother.

And all of that was so unjust.

On the flip side of the coin, Naomi could easily detect Kaiba's presence. But she was a supporting presence for the young man and would not let him be distracted.

The look in his eyes – the one he had had near the front gates – could brighten a thousand suns.

He was happy just thinking about the instant magic of when his lips had met Samantha's.

It was dark outside. But Naomi could see him easily just by the tone of his voice.

Was it identical to the first time, the ultimate moment when Kaiba had placed his lips on hers? The shock and the warmth – did Mokuba feel the same thing?

Yes, she still remembered. Like she remembered how she felt as if her soul had left the earth.

She couldn't help but give him a timid smile at the thought.

If everything could have been so simple.

Yes, but everything was complicated, well against what everyone wished for, including herself.

She did not adventure into other territory, always intimately persuaded that Kaiba was in the hallway; surely he would have had difficulty staying in place.

Yet the storm had passed. Light had suddenly returned.

Mokuba seemed less downhearted. Probably speaking to her had been the most amount of good that she could have done.

Maybe, without realizing it, had she succeeded at putting the spring back in his step?

When she closed the door behind her, and although she was well aware already of his presence, she slammed into Kaiba, who immediately met her eyes as to inquire about the damage he had done there.

He had had the intention of walking into the bedroom but Naomi believed she could sense, somewhere in his dark blue eyes, a doubt, a more apparent lack of courage.

_It's okay, don't worry about it, _she thought encouragingly, giving him an understanding half-smile.

Then she lowered her head as she drifted away, giving him command of the situation.

Kaiba sighed heavily before announcing his presence with a knock on the door. Then, with a quick glance to check to see if Naomi was a sufficient distance away, he walked in and closed the door behind him.

"I think we have to talk, Mokuba."

Still largely put off by his brother's behavior, Mokuba's head lowered, not knowing quite what to say any longer.

But he was still very pained by the newly adopted attitude.

"If you want," he muttered.

"Can I sit down?" Kaiba asked, pointing to the little chair near Mokuba's bed.

Again, he left a short pause, elbows on his knees as he approached the face of his little brother.

"I'm sorry Mokuba. I'm very sorry."

His face, also, showed chagrin. Worse, it seemed to be trapped in a nightmare

"I owe you a lot of explanations…"

_Explanations?_

Mokuba squinted. Seto was so serious all of a sudden. He went back on alarm, and he sat there, both worried and strongly interested.

_How should I begin? But wait, I can't tell him everything…_

Kaiba sighed again.

"Mokuba… first, I want you to promise me that what I will tell you will remain strictly confidential. That nothing will leave this room, and will not leave your lips. You understand?"

"Seto… you're scaring me… what's going on?"

"Promise me," he articulated carefully.

Mokuba stuttered suddenly, uncertain of the content of his brother's future proposition. He knew that it was pretty important given the expression on his face.

"Er… yeah… I… I promise," he ended up saying, shaking his head.

"Naomi… is not going to stay, Mokuba. And I don't think she ever wanted to in the first place."

"What? But… why? What's the – "

"Listen to me, Mokuba. This is important."

The confession repulsed him horribly. Hadn't he admitted himself to be completely powerless, that he had no control over the wills of others?

"That cannot excuse my behavior towards you, Mokuba, and I'm asking you to forgive me for having neglected you these past few weeks," he continued. "But I would like for you to know why I am acting the way I am. And believe me, it's not out of sheer pleasure."

"But tell me… I don't get what you're saying… why does she want to… isn't she happy here with us?"

Kaiba exhaled in a nostalgic sort of half-smirk.

"I think that Naomi can never be happy, wherever she is…"

It was far more difficult than he had imagined to say this.

He was looking for words, confused.

But he hadn't expected how much he would wound himself.

"What I'm trying to say, Mokuba, is very important to keep to yourself."

Again he breathed deeply, looking for a scrap of courage.

"I have been aware of several things for a long time. And these are things that she is not aware that I know of. Memories, moments of her life she would never forgive me for knowing. You see?"

Kaiba was pursuing his _mea culpa_, with some pain, as Mokuba's throat rolled into a ball of sadness without him being aware of precisely why.

Was Kaiba going to go all the way with his demystification? Did he have the right to?

No.

But to win his brother's forgiveness, and maybe in a secret hope that he could come to be of use, he would allow himself to go as far as he could.

"I'm about to show you just how much I trust you, Mokuba. But nothing, _absolutely nothing _can be said about this. Not a word, not a sound. Nothing."

Mokuba suddenly regretted having promised to be silent. It was as if he was readying to hold the weight of the world on his shoulders. And the sensation was quite disagreeable.

But he had promised. And as a Kaiba, he couldn't go back on his word. Especially on the day when his brother came to him for help, seeming to need him.

"And… I don't know if I should let her leave anymore… or…"

Kaiba stopped for a moment.

"No!" Mokuba said fervently, scrambling up only to fall before Seto, and there, on his knees, he grabbed his wrists.

"No," he repeated. "Keep her!"

"What?"

Mokuba's reaction had disarmed Kaiba so badly he almost fell over backwards.

"You heard me, Seto. You don't want her to leave, do you?"

Kaiba's astonished look softened slightly, now being partially filled with gratitude.

Was he going to answer yes or no?

Was it even possible to give a reply without betraying himself completely?

But what was he afraid of? Wasn't it his little brother that was in front of him, the only person in the world whom he had ever completely and absolutely trusted?

But he finally swiped his head decisively, yet only barely; a distinct movement which confirmed the negative.

"It's not that simple, Mokuba."

Everything was becoming so dramatic; Mokuba felt uneasy staying in place.

So instead he forced out a snigger.

"Come on, Seto, you're a Kaiba! Nothing's too difficult or impossible for you… I bet you've already thought of tons of solutions, haven't you?

_I have the best little brother in the world…_

Kaiba didn't stop his relieved, almost amused smile.

"Yeah…. that's true. But I'm not sure what her reaction is going to be. There are… very risky things… and – "

"So risk them!" he interrupted. "No pain, no gain. That has to be the lesson I learned the best. I should have waited for a better moment to tell you, I think…"

He seemed to be openly amused over the entire difficult situation.

"You've changed, Seto."

Kaiba looked his brother in the eye, inquisitive.

"Ever since the day when you went to go race. You remember that bet?"

Well of course he remembered it.

"Well," Mokuba began again, "You haven't stopped changing since then. I see everything she does to you. I even see how you're happy when she's just around. But I can understand that myself now."

Kaiba still felt like he needed to keep a secondary door open, to flee through if he should be discovered.

"Are you sure you aren't mistaking me with your girlfriend?"

Mokuba blushed furiously.

"No… but…er…"

A detail over which they had never before spoken.

But now that Seto had brought up the subject, it was the ideal time to discuss it.

"Oh… you knew."

This time, Kaiba couldn't prevent himself from smiling with delight.

He wanted to know.

"Er…well…"

Unable to stop himself anymore, a flood poured out of Mokuba.

"Oh! Seto! She's so wonderful, and she….and she…"

"Calm down, Moki, you're giving both of us an asthma attack."

Mokuba immediately quieted. In reality, he didn't actually know how to talk about her.

"You're going to introduce me one day, I'm sure."

"Well, duh!"

"I'm sure she's nice."

And now he was back in his shoes as big brother, protector of Mokuba's happiness.

"I… I'm sure you'll like her."

"Hm."

_If she makes you happy, Mokuba, then yes, I'll like her._

"Once again, Mokuba, I'm truly sorry. Not just because of the future. But I have a lot of things to do and they will all take me some time."

"Take as long as you need, Seto. But make her stay. That's all that matters, right?"

Kaiba would have liked for him to grow smaller once again, to hold him in his arms and close to his heart. Only now that Mokuba was nearly as tall as he was, it seemed that his affection elan would no longer be permitted in such a fashion.

That was without considering Mokuba's extreme sensibility, who had no problem continuously demonstrating to him the true love that they had always shared.

His arms closed energetically around Seto's neck, who was surprised but did not try to break free from his grasp. On the contrary, Mokuba couldn't see his big brother's sincere smile as he, too, closed his arms around him.

How he loved him.

"Promise me, Moki, that no matter what happens, you'll come see me and tell me… okay?"

"Unh-hunh," he sighed.

Lowering his arms, Mokuba then looked at him, completely serious.

"So let's make a deal."

"A deal?"

"Yeah! – I'll come and tell you everything I know, but you have to promise me that you'll do everything you can to make Naomi stay. Okay?"

He didn't quite grasp the purpose behind such a deal. If Kaiba put one of his plans into execution, he was convinced that at least some harm would come from it.

But Mokuba was encouraging him, no matter what the cost. Which reassured him greatly.

He knew now that he understood, no matter what he did.

"Alright. We can even sign a contract if you want," asked Kaiba, pretending as if Mokuba were temporarily a business partner.

With a dismissive wave Mokuba rejected the idea, exasperated at the mere proposition.

"Oh no, all of your paperwork should stay down in your office."

They then both broke into laughter.

. . . . . . . . .

"May I help you, Marie?"

"Oh no, ma'am! Everything's already ready."

Naomi looked at her, dumbstruck, given the fact that there had just been an electrical outage.

"Oh," Marie began again, "I made everything before the storm hit. But thank you. You are really too kind."

To which Naomi only responded with a vague, evasive sort of smile.

After dinner, profiting on Kaiba's return to the study and thus absence, Naomi and Mokuba found themselves in the living room, where they had both had the idea to watch a movie – Alexander the Great, starring Colin Ferrell.

"Wait," she said before the movie could begin. "You haven't told me about your courses. How're they coming along?"

Mokuba pouted.

"Bah… so-so…I think I'm doing okay enough. Not like you, but…"

He seemed bored.

"But what? Don't you like them?"

_Those urchins of classmates probably don't make life easy for him. Guess I should have known._

"…yeah….it's okay."

He didn't end up very convincing.

She could have sworn that something was bothering him.

"So… if I'm right, you don't like them?" she risked asking, prepping the turf.

"Er…the course?... no, it's okay. It's pretty good…actually…"

She wasn't going to push the question further, but decided to anyway.

"Is it difficult? Were you expecting it to be different?"

He hesitated, not wanting to disappoint her.

"It's Hashataya who – "

"_Mr. _Hashataya," she replied quickly.

He sighed.

"Yeah… sometimes I think he has favorites… I think he's too strict… I dunno," he admitted with embarrassment, thinking about all of those exercises he had been forced to complete as punishments when it had never been his fault.

Naomi gave an amused smile.

"No, he doesn't. And if he seems strict, it's just to help you progress and assimilate to the material as best as he can. He's one of the best tutors out there."

"What?"

"Yes, yes, I assure you. He's only concerned with your overall well-being. Even if it doesn't seem like it. And tell yourself that when he gets on to you, it's because he sees your talent. He's trying to develop it to its maximum. That's why he seems so authoritative, if not inflexible. But he's a really good teacher. Don't underestimate him, Moki."

_He's also aware that the other students are picking on you….and for your own good… he's letting your harden your spirit._

But she kept this thought to herself alone.

"Does he think I'm good enough to - ?"

"Yes," she encouraged him.

Maybe Mokuba might have judged him incorrectly after all. What he had just learned made some sense to him. And it was true that the quicker that he learned to manage, the quicker he could rid himself of those imbeciles – Keenu's coterie.

Despite it all, it warmed his heart to gain this knowledge.

_Maybe I should make a little trip, then…. go see where things are… besides, I'm beginning to get my strength back, too…_

The conversation hadn't been for nothing after all.

It was a nice thing to say, but deep inside, without admitting it, she was trying to confirm her presentiment.

"How do you like him?"

"Hunh? Who?"

"Well. The actor. Ferrell," Mokuba asked, perhaps trying to find out her preferences vis-à-vis his brother.

"Well," she exhaled. "He's sexy, of course. But… he's a really good actor, but… let's face it… he doesn't bring down the house."

_Doesn't hold a candle to Seto… I'll admit that._

Mokuba's curiosity was piqued when he saw a smile, and then almost a blush, come over Naomi. What could she be thinking about?

. . . . . . . . .

She seemed to be sleeping peacefully, turned onto her left side – her uninjured side. After several weeks the wounds seemed to be healing well. The pain was minimal. She just had to be careful now.

Kaiba stretched out, facing her.

He stopped himself from brushing away a strand of her hair that had fallen into her face because he feared that he might wake her.

But he lay there thinking, never taking his eyes off of her.

_What am I going to do with you? Tell me how, Naomi. Guide me._

. . . . . . . . .

It was four-thirty in the afternoon.

In less than a half an hour, Mokuba would be home from practice, his new norm.

Kaiba still hadn't arrived from the office.

So Naomi had the time to make a few phone calls in order to get her own life back into working order.

As she had proposed the previous day, she thought it was time to add on to her itinerary; she had decided to take a walk around downtown.

She was in the process of putting her coat back on when Kaiba made his entrance.

"Hey," he said, hugging her.

It had been snowing very lightly and his long sweater was dotted with several snowflakes which had managed to find him during his short jump from the limo to the front door.

"Hey," she replied somewhat distantly.

This wasn't the time for her to be distracted. But she still gave him her warm smile.

"Going somewhere?"

_Grr… she's going to think I want to stop her from – _

"Er…yeah."

_Where, exactly?_

Kaiba stopped himself from asking the question. He understood full well that it wasn't in his best interest to let her think herself a prisoner where her every moment was closely followed.

"Be careful, it's a bit slippery out there," he said, letting none of his worries slip into his voice.

"Oh, er…" she murmured as a wacky idea came across her mind.

"Say… could you lend me a car?"

Kaiba froze.

"What?"

"Oh, calm down. I'll be careful!" she complained, slightly insulted as if he had been joking about her driving ability.

But he already knew. So what?

_Agh, what did I say? _he asked himself as he looked at her, vexed.

He chose to try to respond to her as fast as he could.

"Fuck the car."

He stopped suddenly, realizing he had gone farther than he had anticipated.

Which made Naomi smile again as she saw his embarrassment.

"I meant," he said quickly as he cocked his head, "are you sure it wouldn't be wiser to take the limousine? I'll call Roland and – "

"No, I have things to do in town. And I'd really like…"

Kaiba stared at her fixedly. He was waiting for her explanation, but at the same time he was too busy staring to actually hear her response.

At any rate he knew everything was known once it was learned. At worst he would have her followed.

_No, not that. She wouldn't leave in one of my cars, that's for sure._

He calmed down, logic coming to his rescue.

"I'd really like… it's been a long time since I've been down there, and most of the things are personal."

Kaiba uncrossed his arms.

He could have found a thousand ways to refute what she had just asked of him. But he respected her choice.

"Alright," he said, barely noticing when they walked down the stairs to the basement.

Upon their arrival Kaiba turned on the light in the room that she had only been to once before, on Christmas. But she had to say that she hadn't paid the rest of room any mind until that precise moment. She had to say, mostly, that she was still partially under the effects of medication when she had went there. Which excused her ignorance vis-à-vis the majority of the downstairs area.

Her racecar was still in the back of the basement. It was the holiday gift Kaiba had given her, claiming that he was 'repairing' the real one. But only now that she looked at it again did it warm her heart.

"Don't forget, I owe you a rematch," he said, trying to stop himself from laughing maniacally.

Of course he had perfectly followed her train of thought.

Then her eyes turned towards the more impressive panoply that was his own collection.

Her face did not show much happiness despite her enthusiasm and almost irresistible will to drive just one of these extremely expensive vehicles.

Kaiba threw her a key-ring, indicating that she was to choose from among her choices upon it.

"Okay, let me see," she said, mockingly pretending to check the time on her watch. "Two BMWs, a Jaguar, a Ferrari, a Lamborghini, two Mercedes… and then there are the motorcycles – "

"No!" he snapped, completely against the idea. Besides, it was winter, so it was impractical to use a motorcycle on the snowy, icy roads. But in reality, he was dying with worry.

She sighed slightly, annoyed.

Then her expression lightened as her eyebrows un-furrowed.

"Nothing less flashy?"

Now Kaiba sighed, slightly ticked off at the remark.

No. Seto Kaiba was always flashy. Why wouldn't he be?

"Never mind, I'll call a cab."

Then she went to walk back up the stairs.

"Naomi, that's ridiculous. It's just a fucking car. So choose one and go do what you have to do!"

_I'd love to lend you one._

It was perhaps this thought which stopped her halfway up the flight of stairs. Had she heard that, or had she simply dreamed it?

Then again… she had all the rights to her own liberty, even if she were under his roof. Temporarily.

"The Jaguar?"

Kaiba gave her the key without a further word.

Actually, without really knowing why, he felt a particular joy in doing so. A joy which he kept to himself.

But when she went to take the key in hand, he held onto her arm, taking a certain pleasure in holding her against him.

"Thanks," she breathed, visibly affected by the display of affection.

_I missed you… today… _Kaiba thought as he placed a tender kiss on her lips.

"Be careful," he whispered as he held her even tighter.

He was showing too much of himself again. But Naomi wasn't out to make fun of him for it. Au contraire.

. . . . . . . . .

"It's show time tonight, pea brain," Keenu threatened as he tracked Mokuba's every move as he changed, unaware that he could feel his beady eyes boring into his back.

_Ugh… who does he think he is, that jerk? _thought Mokuba as, this time, he saw his chances of escaping falling the entire time he was hurrying to get dressed.

Again, he had to push himself to be faster. But with the little space that separated them, he asked himself how exactly he could get around him this time.

His plan was simple – as he ran, he would move into the back alley and hasten to the limousine on the other side of the street. If he had any luck he should make it. And after that… he'd have the happiness of seeing his girlfriend.

_Gotta catch me first, airhead_!

A thought he kept to himself.

He profited off of the moment when Keenu had turned around towards the back wall of the changing room to race outside, leaving the doors slam in his wake.

He wasn't expecting two more brutes to be waiting outside.

"Hey, pipsqueak, weren't expecting us, were ya?"

And they were full of themselves, too.

_Grrr…_

Mokuba was flooded by anger at their apparent nonchalance. They still hadn't touched him but their mere presence was enough to make him feel like the walls were stretching away from him. Walls which, if he were to reach, he wouldn't be able to pass through.

Then Keenu, all smiles, walked out of the changing room accompanied by a fourth friend.

He was cornered. He had trapped himself trying to leave the back way again. It was just that he hadn't been expecting them to be waiting for him there.

"So, rich boy… not feeling so tough now, are ya?" Keenu sniggered, pushing him roughly against the wall with a shove.

"What do you want from me?" Mokuba asked, who wanted to, above all, keep playing hardball and show that he was not frightened, although he had to stop himself from shaking.

Of course, the limousine was on the other end of the alley, at the entrance to the gym. And maybe it would have been easy to shout so loud that the driver could have heard him. He kept it as a last resort.

But he tried to keep himself brave, hoping to prove that he could manage.

"Ohh, my, look how brave you are. You always bring your friends with you?" he said, keeping his eye on the four massive boys.

At which they all laughed at him. They evidently found pleasure in 'torturing' their victims first.

_Okay… calm down, Moki… think, if he walks up and tries to lay a hand on you, you can dodge it, and then you – _

But he had no time to continue fleshing out a strategy when his head once again slammed against the wall. This time, however, Keenu kept his grip on his collar.

Mokuba believed the time had come to make his final prayer as he closed his eyes, ready to take a blow right in his face. His muscles had stiffened.

"Enough!"

A strong, very authoritarian voice stopped Keenu's fist in mid-swing as he froze in place, then jumped a good distance away from Mokuba.

Several seconds later a shadow had flitted between them, shielding Mokuba, whose eyes shot open to see the gang backing away quickly.

If they had had the ability to merge their bodies with the wall, they would have done so. But instead, their heads lowered, reddening darkly with fear and shame.

Even better – Mokuba swore that they were panicking.

"Oh! Sensei!" Keenu said, his fists unclenching and falling away from in front of him.

An action which was quickly imitated by his companions.

They then bowed roughly in respect to the intervening shadow.

_What? Sensei?_

Mokuba held back his cry of surprise.

Because it was Naomi who was standing before him, armed with her legendary calm, arms crossed.

"Care to explain, Keenu?"

He had the advantage of height – he was a full head taller than Naomi. Besides, wasn't it a given that four was supposedly better than one?

Apparently not, given their reactions.

_Sensei! _Mokuba thought. _She's…a teacher… oh…! Woah!_

The comedic situation was becoming more and more hilarious.

But he held back his triumphant laugh.

"Let me refresh your memory, Keenu," she was saying. "You were already warned, I think, to leave others alone, _particularly _new students, am I correct?"

"Er…" he babbled. "Yes, Sensei."

He had no reason to lie.

"Well, I'm waiting!" she barked in a tone that could chill blood.

"It's…it's just…" he stammered.

"It's because you're a coward who only picks on people smaller than you, isn't it!"

The others seemed to wish to disperse, to high-tail it away their leader.

"Nobody move!" she snapped, without deigning look at them.

It still caused them to remain where they were.

"I am going to tell you once more, Keenu," she began again, walking forward until their faces were inches apart. "_If _I see you beginning your dirty tricks on anyone, or even if I learn about it, you will have to answer to me. Understand?"

His breathing came with difficulty, and he did not raise his head to look at her.

All of his fortitude had vanished.

"Yes…sensei," he sighed in a forlorn tone. "Can I go now?"

"No!" she shouted. "I'm not finished."

This time she shoved her face so close to his that he could feel her breath, but he still did not dare to look at her.

"Let me inform you that I am going to take Mr. Kaiba under my own tutelage. I am going to train him personally. And I will do so to the point that when we have finished, I will decide _when _and _where _he will come to kick your ass."

Keenu's knees buckled, as if he were melting before her stern threats.

"BUT!" she insisted, even graver than before. "As for right now, I'm forbidding you, and your charming little friends, from approaching him or even looking at him. Have I made myself sufficiently clear?"

He didn't seem so tough anymore. Mokuba even believed – as he stood there with a hand over his mouth to stop himself from laughing – that he had crapped his pants.

"Yes, sensei."

This time, he was shaking as much from anger as from fear. But the respect he held for her was, despite it all, indisputable.

"Alright. Get lost."

They didn't have to be told twice as they all scampered away as fast as they possibly could.

Dumbfounded, Mokuba was still standing there, trying not to laugh.

"Sensei? Why didn't you tell me, Nao?"

She turned towards him, looking worried to find him in such a state.

He hadn't a scratch on him, which made her relax a bit.

"Was it important?"

"Well.. no… but I guess I would have wanted to know," he said, joining her on the walk to the limousine.

"Okay. Well, now you know. Does it change anything?"

"Er….no, of course not…but – "

Without really knowing why, he felt a strange sense of pride.

"Wait a minute, you were serious when you said I was going to kick his ass?"

"Of course!"

"So… let me get this straight… you're going to…teach me?"

Happy. Mokuba felt an almost debilitating sense of excitement as the joy ballooned inside of his chest.

Roland opened the door upon their arrival.

"Why not? You think we could find a room in the mansion?"

_Does this mean she is going to stay? Yessssssssss! Seto will be so happy!_

He hid his thoughts once more.

But it was so encouraging.

Did Seto know that she was this accomplished in martial arts?

"Oh, yeah!" he responded fervently.

"Cool. I'm gonna stick around, alright? I have some things to get done around here."

Mokuba pleasurably agreed before scrambling into the car.


	22. Chapter 22

The original French story belongs to Melzart, and the Yu-Gi-Oh! franchise belongs to Kazuki Takahashi.

* * *

Chapter 22

_A Very Simple Proposition_

"Just call her."

Mokuba had already been back for half an hour, and had already told his older sibling about his 'adventure'. He still hadn't admitted that he was taking courses of self-defense. But he was tired of seeing Seto pacing between the hall and the salon, stopping at a window every now and again to try to see if he could see the lights of the Jaguar brightening in the mansion's driveway.

Naomi had been gone for almost two hours. Which frustrated him.

But he had insisted that he leave her be, to not follow her, to not even plant a bug somewhere on her, which he was now regretting.

He didn't respond right away to Mokuba's request, who himself seemed slightly amused.

"Agh! Seto! Just call her. Then you'll know everything's okay."

"No!"

To call her would be a sign of weakness, a mark of his dependence. Worse, to take back his own word. He couldn't force himself to do that.

"You're right, though. There's nothing to worry about. She's just in the middle of doing some shopping," Mokuba told him generously, who, knowing his brother well, had immediately understood that it would be difficult for him to ignore his persisting sense of worry. "She's scouring the entire city for something… or maybe… I don't know, some weirdo's trying to drag her into his car…"

_Grr… Naomi? What are you doing?_

What if she had gone, without warning and without any suitcases?

No. He was of the opinion that she wouldn't desert him using his own car. She was too respectful of others' well being to borrow something for such a purpose.

"Seto!" Mokuba almost shouted now, standing to stand directly in front of his brother. "Stop turning in circles, it's bothering me!"

"I am not turning in – "

"Okay, fine, geometrically, it's more like an oval – long and stretched out given the distance you're going – than a circle, but still!"

"Ugh. I'm compensating for the exercise I don't normally get. I need to walk a bit, stretch my legs out."

Pathetic. Both to the ear and to his seriously insulted sense of logic.

But Mokuba was right.

It was stupid. Dialing a telephone number was child's play. However… he still couldn't bring himself to do it.

_Okay._

He placed his hand on the telephone.

_Phew! About time, _Mokuba thought, still watching him closely.

But his happy expression fell away when he saw him pull his hand back away from the phone and look out the window to search for her once more.

_Gah, he can be so stubborn… luckily things aren't this complicated with Samantha. Otherwise… geez…_

Which made him smile timidly, a smile he then hurried to conceal.

"Ugh! Seto!"

Unable to take it any longer, Mokuba proved to be the more mature of the two in that moment when he grasped the phone in his own hands.

"What are you doing?" Seto asked sharply.

"I'm doing what _you _should be doing!"

Kaiba threw him a grimace.

"Put down that phone, Moki."

"No!"

"Mokuba!"

"No! Be as forceful as you want, I'm not letting go of this phone!"

"Grr!"

Kaiba began to run towards him to tear the phone from his hands, but Mokuba had been too speedy in punching the number into the keypad.

The line was already ringing on the other side.

Somehow or another, she knew when she answered who was calling her, given the brouhaha going on in full force on the other side of the line.

"Damn," Kaiba whispered.

After having reunited with her colleagues at the gym, she had decided to do some shopping. She was already on her way back when the car phone began to ring.

_Hey…_

But she wasn't annoyed. To be honest, she felt happy to be alone in the car, because nobody could see the small smile that lit her face.

"Hello?"

"Er… hi, Nao!" Mokuba said loudly, having stopped the fighting with his brother over possession of the phone.

Kaiba had taken a step backwards when he realized that he had lost the fight.

_Grr… you'll pay me back for that, Moki…_

The storm in his eyes warned Mokuba of the war to come.

But in truth, he was very happy for having taken the initiative.

Out of habit, Naomi took a quick glance in the rearview mirror, then straightened it slightly.

"Hey, Moki," she responded with a lack of enthusiasm.

"Er… yeah… Seto was won- "

But he suddenly felt himself be on the receiving end of a small kick in the shin, which didn't deter him.

"_We _were wondering," he corrected himself after looking at Kaiba again, "how long you were going to be out. Everything okay?"

He rapidly straightened, not daring to say anything further, but instead quickly put the phone on speaker so that Kaiba could hear the entire conversation perfectly clearly, and vice versa.

He had turned around back towards the window again, slightly annoyed with the banal situation and Mokuba's insistence in messing in what was supposed to be his own business.

"Yeah. Yeah, thanks," she responded as she came to a stop at a light on her way to the bank. "Er… no, I think I'll be – "

But she suddenly stopped the conversation clean when an another vehicle nearly hit her when it sped through its own red light.

The sound of tires squealing on pavement made Kaiba jump, and, sensing the immediate danger, muttered very quietly without turning around:

"Where is she? Ask her where she is!"

"Asshole!" he heard her yell at the other driver.

The window of Naomi's car being open, Kaiba could clearly hear what sounded like a retort in Naomi's direction, which put him on edge and made him deeply regret not being there. He would have smashed the other man's skull with pleasure.

Despite it all, he was ready to leave at the slightest sign of any real disturbance.

"Nao!" Mokuba cried, also worried.

"Hunh?"

For a second she had almost forgotten that she had a damn telephone on one ear.

"No. It's good, I'm okay. Just an idiot who didn't stop when he should have, that's all. It's just…. nah, I'm okay. Don't worry, Seto, he didn't do any damage to the car."

_Grr… like I give a damn about the car right now._

Kaiba still breathed a sigh of relief.

But worst of all, she knew that two brothers were listening. She knew that Seto was listening.

"Oh, by the way, Seto, I love your Jaguar!"

He still didn't respond, a very nostalgic grin on his face, still refusing to show the slightest interest. But he was happy that it pleased her.

"So…" Mokuba began again, "when will you be back?"

Naomi sighed gently, with a somewhat mocking tone.

_Seriously? Does he still think I'm at the mansion?_

But Kaiba wasn't smiling.

"Well… for a little while longer, I think I've still got some more shopping to do… so don't worry, just have dinner without me, okay?"

No, Kaiba was not smiling at all. Wasn't she beyond his grasp?

"Er… okay," Mokuba said. "See you later, okay?"

Again, Naomi glanced quickly in the rearview mirror. Except this time, her attention was soon won by a black limousine which, for a moment, seemed to be following her.

_Grr. Kaiba…_

A hesitation in responding procured a new apprehension in Kaiba's bosom. He could have sworn that something was bothering her.

_That can't be right. If he's following me, why would he be asking me where I am and when I'd be back?_

_ Hm. Maybe it really is anxiety and he just has to know every move I make. Probably. They'd go hand in hand._

But how did that explain the alarm bells that were suddenly ringing in her head?

"I…" she began again before falling silent.

_Grr…tell me where you are, Naomi. I'll be there right away…_

"I'm gonna go now, okay?"

Her voice had betrayed her, at least to Kaiba, who easily picked up what sounded like a tone of annoyance. He was again thrown into a state of the worst kind of torment.

_No. No… this isn't good… what's wrong? Say something, Naomi._

"I'm just gonna do some shopping and then come back, don't worry," she assured them, eyes trained on the car behind her. "Talk to you later!"

Then she hung up.

Even from this far away should could sense Kaiba's emotions erring wildly, which wasn't exactly reassuring. She just decided to end the conversation.

Kaiba sighed, loudly.

What had she seen, or believed she had seen, that could have broken her concentration like that?

. . . . . . . . .

Wanting to squelch her apprehension, she deliberately chose to park on the side of the road. The limousine then mirrored the action, which was disturbing and confirmed what her intuition had said.

Then, with even more audacity, she got out of the car to find out who was so eager to follow her like this.

She approached the driver's side window, which was soon lowering.

"Is something wrong, ma'am?" he asked, courteously.

She had never seen him before. Never in Kaiba's immediate entourage. And this limousine did not belong to them, she was certain.

"I was just about to ask you the same thing," she dared to tell him.

"Excuse me?"

"I don't know if you were planning on coming home with me, but if you have something to tell me, now's the time."

He was going to protest, lie pointedly as per quid pro quo. But as he had received an order, he decided to end this now.

"I believe you are mistaken, ma'am."

The window then rolled back into place, and the vehicle began to move forward.

"Hm…" she grumbled thoughtfully as she watched the car vanish into traffic.

Fishy. This was all very odd.

No, she really didn't appreciate her damned intuition right now.

So she climbed back into Kaiba's Jaguar to get back on her way.

. . . . . . . . .

"So are you satisfied?"

Kaiba didn't respond.

Something in Naomi's voice indicated a hint of something evidently bothersome. Miniscule, maybe. But real.

And he wasn't there.

_I never should have let her leave the house…. gah, but how could I have stopped her? This is absurd…_

"Seto! Hello? Hello! This is the moon, do you copy, Houston?"

"Hunh?"

Kaiba, somewhat disobligingly, came out of his torpor.

"Yeah, I am," he assured him.

"So can we eat now?"

He seemed to be absent, a fact which Mokuba noticed and was beginning to think was a bit much. He had personally heard that everything was fine. So why was he so worried?

"Er…yeah, Moki… go ahead. I'll wait a little while."

"…okay…"

He didn't wait any longer before rushing to the kitchen as Seto used his most penetrating stare to look through the window onto the property below.

. . . . . . . . .

She was stunned.

What was supposed to have been a simple bank visit was turning into a wild goose chase as she scoured the bank, looking for whoever was in charge.

"Ah! Mrs. Déziel!" he cried when she found him, welcoming her arrival with the greatest of smiles. "Please, sit down."

Which she did, even though her cheeks were red. This wouldn't take her very long, hopefully.

"What is the meaning of this?"

"Of what, ma'am?"

She wasn't taking any chances, although she probably didn't need any to do this.

"If you look in my account, you'll find that a deposit equivalent to over fifty thousand U.S. dollars was made…. which I had no idea about. Could you explain this to me?"

He coughed a little, visibly impressed by the amount of money involved.

"Er… yes, I see."

"_What _do you see?" she cut him off vigorously.

The anger was spreading through her entire body.

She just wasn't trembling, yet.

"It's just… I can see the money, ma'am. But.. what would you like to know that you don't already?"

"What? Okay, let me try this again. I don't think you understood what I asked of you. At least _try _to read my lips: WHERE DID THIS MONEY COME FROM, AND WHY THE HELL WAS I NEVER INFORMED? You get it now?"

How was he going to tell her that he honestly had no clue where it all came from or how it could have happened?

She decided to try to calm down; nothing was won by anger alone.

"Alright. What I mean is, it has to be a mistake… and – "

He interrupted her, warmly.

"Oh no, it's not a mistake. It was specifically placed in your account, under your name."

Naomi shivered, albeit inconsiderably. She had to stop herself from digging her fingernails into the wood of his desk.

"Where did it come from?"

"It was an anonymous donor."

_Grr… an anonymous donor? Is he trying to make fun of me?_

"Excuse me?"

"I assure you that I'm telling you the truth – I have absolutely no idea who – "

"Do I look like Queen Elizabeth or something to you?" she hissed aggressively.

She was more than irritated, as he could tell by the look on her face and the vibe pouring off of her.

"I'm terribly sorry, ma'am," he said again. "But you can even look at the screen, if you want. I have absolutely no idea of the name of the person who would give you such a sum of money."

_So why do _I _have an idea as to who? GAH!_

"So are you telling me that anyone can enter my bank account without my permission?"

"Er… not quite. Somebody can make a deposit. That's public domain. But the good news is that nobody other than you can access your account to make a withdrawal."

"Oh, that sounds so _nice_."

Again, she sighed loudly.

"Fine. Could you at least tell me where it came from?"

"Er…"

"Europe? North America?"

"Oh. Er, Japan," he said resolutely, seemingly proud of himself for finally answering one of her questions.

_I am going to fucking KILL him!_

"The date? When was the transaction?"

He looked at the screen briefly.

"Er… it says here that it was on this past December twenty-third."

She had still been having trouble with her wounds at the time. She remembered that quite clearly. Even if she had struggled to hide it all behind powders and foundation.

She stood up without warning.

"Thank you. That will be all."

He tried to prevent her from leaving.

"Oh, wait, ma'am! Would you perhaps be interested in some of our off- "

"Ha! Are you trying to make a fool of me? You let anyone walk in and out of people's bank accounts and you think I'm trusting a bank like that?"

His chin raised, his mind full of excuses.

"I only know that it was most likely a transaction not made at this exact bank, manually. It was most likely done via phone."

_Who the fuck cares how._

She already knew who did it.

And the anger was leaving her fuming.

"Kaiba…"

That was it. The truth left her shaking from the inside out. If he were indeed a being born on earth, and not descended from the skies, he would have to learn to fear Naomi's reaction.

"Fine."

Then he would have put down the phone to plunge right back into the work he was doing on his laptop.

She was more than angry. She felt the feeling down to the crux of her stomach. He should see this coming – you can't make an omelet without breaking a couple of eggs.

. . . . . . . . .

But he wasn't about to joke about the future battle between them. He was inclined to do so by the simple desire to compensate her a little for all of the pain she had suffered in his name.

It had been a long time since he had made the decision – almost two months. At the time, it was supposed to be a present. But he had then got around to thinking about the use of it as a payment for the incident. And now that was what he pushed to believe. Again, he remembered being stopped from putting in any more than that amount, as to him, his brother's life was priceless.

He had done it purposefully, knowing well in advance the reaction that she would likely have. He'd just have to plead guilty.

But his action left behind no second thoughts. Which he hoped that she would understand, despite it all.

The shopping séance was to be expected, and might be delayed later if she didn't do it now; yet there were much better points to be raised at the moment.

Why? Why did he allow himself to do this?

He hadn't even the decency to get her to slip in a word concerning her opinion.

It was an grave insult, a blow to her private life.

Even if she had wished to find another man guilty, nobody could possibly have been as 'available' as Seto Kaiba.

Even if he, quite simply, hadn't the right.

The car's headlights lit up the front of the mansion as the Jaguar approached the entrance, which indicated to Kaiba that at any moment it was quite possible to hear the door open and then slam violently several seconds later. Even though he secretly wished that it was to sound like nothing quite as unpleasant.

. . . . . . . . .

Despite her anger and perfectly conscious that this house did not belong to her, she managed to keep sufficiently calm to head towards Kaiba's office. Remarkably, she broke nothing in her path.

"Hey, Naomi, have fun?"

Mokuba had rushed out of nowhere, wanting to let her know just how badly Seto had been worrying during her absence.

"It's about time you got back 'cause – "

"Not now, Moki," she told him dismissively, disconcerting the young man as he watched her walk away, wanting to understand what could have happened to make her mood do a one-eighty.

But something told him that it had something directly to do with his brother.

She didn't bother knocking, whacking open the door with a _bang!_

But Kaiba didn't seem terribly impressed. After all, he was used to dealing with everybody _else_'s bad moods at the office.

He didn't confess that it could be slightly more difficult in Naomi's case as he sat unflinching before the threatening tornado which had just violently entered the room.

"Have a good time?" he asked without raising his eyes.

She growled.

Before he could blink she was standing in front of his desk, arms crossed tightly.

If he were to look at her, he was sure that he would see a cloud of smoke steaming out of her ears.

"What the hell are you playing at?"

No response. Kaiba kept a disarming calm. Apparently he had nothing he felt that he had to apologize for.

"Take back the money, Seto!"

It was an order, and although he showed nothing, he was quite irritated.

"No."

He then suddenly stood to his full height, his blue eyes meeting Naomi's directly. She didn't budge.

"You think this is funny?"

"Of course not."

"You owe me an explanation, don't you think?"

_ Grr… why does everything always have to be so complicated…_

Since when was Kaiba obligated to explain himself? Ever since he forgot he was dealing with _her_.

"That's alright, I just have a simple proposal to make to you," he said, easily taking control of the conversation.

He was about to do what he knew best: talk business.

"Don't change the subject. First explain to me why you put that money in my account and why the hell you thought you had any right to!"

"It's just compensation, Naomi. Don't worry about it. I had no ulterior motives for doing so."

"What? It's COMPENSATION? Why?"

This time he turned away slightly so that she couldn't perceive the trouble that he went through to talk about that horrible time.

"For all of the time that you couldn't meet your contract at the hotel with your concerts, the revenue you couldn't get when you were – "

He stopped himself briefly.

_When I was… injured?_

It was maybe at that exact instant that she realized how badly those events had hit him – _him_.

"… convalescent."

He seemed pensive, lost in thought now, and although this occurred for only several seconds, Naomi understood that the incident was still taking its toll on him.

He almost grit his teeth.

_Seto… I didn't think that…_

It had to be that very thought which was keeping him silent.

He felt responsible. And now she just understood just how much he felt so.

"Seto…" she said, putting a hand on his arm as if to guide him back to reality. "It's not your fault."

Nothing. He was still suffering.

"I think it's alright to compensate you for the loss of salary that you accumulated during that period. That's why I did it. The only reason."

She sighed.

He only had the best intentions on the inside, purely harmless.

"Seto… I don't want to get into an argument with you. But I want you to take back that money."

He then took her into his arms.

"Well then, don't argue with me, Naomi…."

_You'd just lose anyway._

She wanted to free herself from his grasp, but he held her even more firmly, careful to not hurt her in the process.

"… so, no, I won't take it back."

"Ugh, I hate it when you – "

"Have I already told you how beautiful you are when you're angry?..."

She had no idea how to respond to that.

But he pushed her a bit more closely towards his body.

"…and what it does to me?..."

_Grr… why does he always have to – _

Disarmed. She had to fight against her own urges now, fight to resist him at any price. But the frank look on his face, those superbly polar blue eyes, conquered her every time.

If she tried to move a muscle, she'd collapse into his arms.

"Take it back, Seto," she said, turning her head away so that she gave him no indication of her own desire to kiss him ardently.

He stood absolutely firm, his mouth looking for her lower neck.

"No."

She exhaled.

"Fine. So you'd have no problem with me giving it to others who are more deserving of it than I am?"

_Grr… so stubborn… yes, I'd have a problem with that._

"I have a better idea," he said, separating from her. "It concerns the proposition that I mentioned when you first walked in."

_A proposition? What is he going to force out of me _now?

Naomi stared at him.

"With the money, I propose that you buy a solid amount of KaibaCorp stock."

Her mouth hung open, eyes wide, her face clearly showing her stupor.

Kaiba had to prevent himself from bursting out laughing at the almost comical expression that had swept across her face.

But he had even thought it funny before he said anything – he had foreseen her reaction.

"What?"

"It's simple," he continued. "In a few days' time a new contract will come into effect, augmenting my company's profits…. we're absorbing another business, and – "

_What the hell does that have to do with me?_

" – and it will bring a nearly fifty dollar increase in the price of shares already on the market. Which of course means that this would be the ideal time for you to invest and enjoy massive returns."

She shook her head, simply uncomprehending.

"Seto, you didn't listen to me. I don't want money. So why would I go about trying to make a profit?"

More deeply ingrained in his reasoning, which was apparently not being clearly understood, he continued:

"You should, because as you love giving to others so much, why not wait and fructify what you have first? Afterwards you can do as you wish with it."

In reality it was already done. He had already bought her some of the shares under his name. It would come back to her in some way or another, even if she dispensed of his first payment – she would still have small shares in the company.

Didn't he want the business to stay in the family?

"I'll let you think about it, and if you should agree, I'll make the required transactions."

_This is all so weird… why do I feel like he's trying to trick me? You know he's not doing it for some bad reason… he's a businessman. Remember?_

But it was true that until she gave the money away, like to the orphanage ever present in her thoughts, the threat of wanting to profit from the situation still remained.

How could she walk out of the room now?

By warning him that he had won for now, but this was the last time she'd let him meddle in her affairs?

_Grr…_

. . . . . . . . .

"So… from what I can tell… he's still alive?" said the tall man as he bent nonchalantly over the half-knelt body of another man in chains, an animal ready for slaughter.

Kaiba had secretly kept the habit of coming back to the warehouse to check upon how his prisoner was doing.

Anybody else would have had a strand of pity the man, who has half-dead by now; his fists were bloody, maimed mostly by the iron wristbands he had fought against more than once to liberate himself from. And all over his body he could see burn marks and bruises, ignoring the numerous cuts due certainly to the sharp blades, those that shear skin like razors.

And on his face, which Kaiba could barely recognize, evidence of an almost daily punishment deformed his features, extremely worn from the long hours he spent awake.

But what seemed to be the cruelest thing of all was the drug injected into him which made him keep living his miserable existence and gave him all the appearances of being a zombie, a zombie which could no longer cause any harm.

Anybody else would have done practically anything to stop all of the inhumane torture.

But Kaiba felt that even pity – as pathetic as it was – was unjustifiable before this vermin.

It had been this very man who had taken so much pleasure in torturing Naomi several months ago.

It would be this very man who would never see the clemency of Seto Kaiba.

Disgust smeared across his lips every single time. As much in the not-so-long-ago past as at present, when he was once again before his eyes.

In one fashion or another, no amount of suffering could ever be enough for this guy. Not after what he had done.

And now Kaiba was keeping him alive. Without any pity. Like a guinea pig for science, a laboratory rat cut in half and then purposefully sewed back into one.

But he had stopped the physical abuse of slapping him a while ago, realizing that dirtying his hands on the monster wasn't worth it.

Only Kaiba hadn't yet decided upon his final fate. Or, rather, the right moment to make him disappear entirely. He simply couldn't reduce himself to the quick route, over at a snap of the fingers.

But he still had time. His entire life to chastise him, to make him bitterly regret - in the world's cruelest way - an action he never should have even imagined doing.

_Look at your bitch now, Kaiba, I made a beauty out of her. Like it?_

If Kaiba were to surprise himself for one instant by wanting to lessen the prisoner's pain, it wasn't long before he was revolted with himself, his eyes seeing the man's bloody hands holding Naomi in his arms in the fucking hangar where he had happily violated her. So nothing was important but his own personal vengeance.

And it was simply a turn of events.

_If you want to die, I will leave you alive…. and if you wish to live… I will do my best to make you suffer even more._

It really did stink in this room; a mixture forged out of blood, vomit, and chemicals altered the ambient air.

Kaiba looked at him one more time before turning on his heels, a look of unending spite and contempt.

He never would have previously thought himself capable of such hatred.


	23. Chapter 23

The original version of this story (French _Apparences_) belongs to Melzart, and the Yu-Gi-Oh! franchise belongs to Kazuki Takahashi.

* * *

Chapter 23

_Countdown_

"Alright."

But why had she given him her approbation to increase that sum of money which wasn't even hers?

She remembered very well having seen Kaiba give a strange smirk, as if he had known that she wouldn't resist. And worst of all, it seemed as if he was very content for having bent her to his will. He had his reasons, that was for sure. And though she was looking for which ones those were exactly, she wanted to just ignore it all.

Not everything is good to know.

But the fact was that, in some manner or another, she would have to make good use of it. Hadn't he told her that she was the owner of all of it?

It was the only reason why she had accepted his request.

Even if it all wasn't just to make him happy. Because she understood that Seto, a very powerful businessman, had allowed himself to get into her own personal things and that he had to, she didn't doubt for a second, knew about the state of her finances. This didn't leave her without worry – she was used to being relatively independent financially.

But he had been discreet on this point. He hadn't spoken of it any more than she had.

In the end he had been right, like always. KaibaCorp's new acquisition two days ago had allowed the price of shares to skyrocket, just as Seto had predicted, and she was now in command of over a hundred thousand dollars, immediately reinvested with Kaiba's recommendation. Her urge to use the money herself hadn't wasted time in ballooning appropriately.

Kaiba was a seasoned businessman. Brilliant, too. Nobody could refute his competency. It was liquid money that ran through his veins, pure and simple.

She certainly wasn't going to deny that fact.

"Naomi, can you push me?" Molina asked as she stood by the swing.

"Oh, of course, honey…here…"

And she began to softly push the child.

There had been a short amount of time where she hadn't the pleasure to spend several hours at the orphanage. There, outside and dressed for the weather, she was having fun busying herself with the swarm which had been playing on the playground for the past half-hour or so. And this time, depending on the caprices of the temperature, it could last a tad longer.

But there was a chance. At the same time it was a curse to see that some children, such as Molina in particular, had still not yet been adopted by loving parents. In her case, she remained selfishly happy to see the little girl every time, and feared the moment when she wouldn't see her anymore. She was truly a little piece of sun, a balm for her wounds.

On the flip side she had begun to train again, both alone and with Mokuba, whose professor she supposedly was, in the basement of the Kaiba mansion. Every afternoon, as soon as Mokuba returned from school, they hurried to practice before Seto could catch wind of it. They had earned the trust of a guard, who was to warn them in case of trouble. It was almost funny. Of course she had to be especially prudent as her sides still hurt her lightly. But even the bruises had left her body; proof of the speed of the healing process.

But at the heart of things, hiding it all was useless.

Would could possibly change if Kaiba were to learn that they were training in the martial arts behind his back? Hadn't he been the one to want to pay her to tutor him?

She knew that he'd learn of it sooner or later.

"Naomi…?" Jeremy asked, approaching her timidly.

She was pulled from her thoughts.

"You know Mr. Kaiba?"

Carefully, still pushing Molina, she turned her head to give her attention to the newcomer.

"Yes?"

"Er… do you think he'll show us his dragon again when he comes back?"

_When he comes back? Are we supposed to come as a pair now?_

"What makes you think he'd come back, Jeremy?"

"Well…er…. I thought…. because you…. well, you guys look like you like each other, and…"

Red in the face, he fell silent.

"Jeremy," she said pleasantly. "I don't know."

"Oh…" he sighed, filled with disappointment, a sudden sadness.

"You like him a lot, don't you?" she risked asking him.

The look in the child's eyes was now like a thousand fires.

"Oh, yeah!"

"May I ask why?"

She was smiling politely, now curious to understand the child's attraction – an attraction which wasn't unique to him alone – to Seto Kaiba.

He blushed again, seeming to have difficulty in correctly answering the question. A question Naomi even thought he might never have actually asked himself.

But she was patient. There was no use in trying to push him.

"Well…. I think he's a great guy. I'd love to be like him."

_A great guy? Be like him?_

Strange, the contrast between the worlds of childhood and adulthood. Everywhere except for within the confines of his amusement park, all that could be heard about Kaiba was negative. Here, though, he was a god.

"Yeah!" he said. "He's rich and powerful, and he has the best company in the world… just think, he makes children's games! Plus he's a champion and he's really smart."

_I'll give you that, yes._

"Well, the _real _champion is Yugi Motou… but who cares, he's not like Mr. Kaiba! He's different."

"Different? How?"

"Well…" Jeremy began, who had been managing the conversation wonderfully up to that point. "I heard that he was at the orphanage too, once… that he doesn't have parents and I think…"

Naomi's heart stopped beating. Didn't she already know so much about this?

"…yeah, I think he went through a lot of pain and it wasn't easy for him to reach the top where he is today. I think it's awesome."

From the mouths of babes, as they say.

Those beings – so small – that are often believed to be so naïve are capable of shattering the thickest walls around any man. Which adults seem completely incapable of doing. The most admirable of all people was a young boy. Piercing the heart of Seto Kaiba without having even been close enough to him to register in his memory.

"So, yeah, I know, he looks tough… everyone says he's selfish and mean. But I know they're all lying. I just think they're jealous. They're the mean ones!"

Naomi couldn't help but plant a tiny kiss on Jeremy's forehead.

He was so right. He had no idea.

"I noticed that… well, you know Mr. Kaiba, right?"

"Er… you could say that, yes."

She shivered at the thought of his lips kissing her body.

"Can I ask you… to tell him something for me…?" he said.

Naomi wasn't certain that she'd be a good messenger.

"Like what?"

"Well, just tell him that… I like him a lot. And I really want to see him again one day."

How to not be moved by such a confession?

"Why not tell him yourself, Jeremy?"

The boy frowned.

"Write him something – a letter – and I'll give it to him. He'll get it, Jeremy, I promise. And I'm sure it'll make him really, really happy."

"But… don't go yet, okay? Will you wait until I write my letter?"

"Yes, I'll wait," she agreed with a nod.

Jeremy then ran inside, all smiles, determined to prove to Mr. Kaiba just how much he appreciated him.

_Yes, I'm sure he'll be very touched._

"So, Naomi, you won't push me anymore?"

She turned towards Molina, who had gotten off of the swing.

"Of course I will. You still want to?"

"Mm-hm."

Then the little girl sat back down on the wood plank.

Naomi was helping her seat herself correctly when her attention was captured by something in the corner of her eye which wasn't there before, but which was coming to a very slow stop.

The black limousine.

Except that this time she panicked, surrounded as she was by so many children that she couldn't protect them all at once.

"Er… I think we should go inside," she said quietly, so as to not alarm Molina.

"Hunh? Why?"

"Er… I'm starting to feel really cold…"

"Oh!" she said, getting off of the swing once more to hold her hand.

"If you want to," she said sweetly.

"Okay, everyone!" she shouted so that they could all hear her. "Let's go inside!"

There were cries of protest which then died out as they quickly begin to follow Naomi towards the entrance.

"Go on, Molina, I'll be in in a few minutes, okay?" she said, pushing the child encouragingly.

Molina didn't complain although she wasn't happy to break away from her.

Then, gathering courage, she sighed heavily, pulling herself together almost with fury.

That fucking car had been following her for days – weeks, now, even. And worst of all, to the orphanage, where there were hundreds of defenseless children.

Her decision made, she turned around and began to walk up the narrow sidewalk which led to the edge of the property.

She was determined to know what the threat was that was hanging over her head. Determined to get it over with.

But the principal goal in her mind was first and foremost to get the enemy away from the orphanage.

_What if it has to do with Kaiba?_

_ Of course it has to do with Kaiba! Who else?_

The question didn't even need to be asked.

_Grr… I've had enough of this!_

_ What do they always keep wanting from him?_

She very well could rebel, rage over the series of events that had happened since he had entered her existence. But she would never succeed in convincing herself that Seto could be the devil that everyone cursed out, wanting to bitterly repent for his sins.

Strangely, as she approached the car, she felt as if its occupants were again about to flee, leaving her in the dark.

But against her expectations this time, all four doors opened when she stepped onto the sidewalk leading up to the parked vehicle.

First the driver, then two other men – which she guessed were bodyguards – clambered out of the car simultaneously.

Naomi took a step backwards, ready to defend herself, truly expecting to be attacked by the gorilla-like goons.

Then, from the fourth door emerged another man; he seemed distinguished, as his clothes seemed quite expensive. He was wearing an egg-white coat, and his hair, which fell just about to his shoulders, was very dark, practically jet-black. She could not immediately perceive his eyes, as they were hidden behind an enormous pair of sunglasses.

"I assure you, ma'am, we do not mean you any harm."

But Naomi did not lower her guard.

"Really now," she said in a tone so bitingly sarcastic it bordered on rivaling Kaiba's.

He took pleasure at the sight of her and gave a tiny mocking laugh.

"Moreover, let me add that we are perfectly aware of your physical debilitations… so don't worry. None of us would dare."

"Thanks," she said again. "But enough small talk. What the hell do you guys want? If it's for a hotel – "

This certainly wasn't the moment to be making jokes, but in her arrogance, she had allowed herself to do so.

Again, he roared with laughter.

"You really are too funny… Mrs. Déziel!"

Naomi hid her flinch excellently, not giving him the pleasure of seeing her utter shock. He seemed to know more than a smidge about her.

"Do we know each other?" she hissed, eyebrows arching.

She earned a smile filled with admiration a light, practically regretful sigh, which didn't make her feel any better. The despicable man's head was tilting, as if taking in her body from the bottom up, before seemingly focusing again on her face.

It was the repugnant impression of feeling her naked body being run over by hundreds of slugs.

"I think a brothel would suit you better."

"You certainly have a sense of humor, ma'am. But on to more serious matters," he said, his smile fading.

Her concentration at a peak, Naomi could easily see any movement within a range of at least one hundred and eighty degrees in front of her. So she would not miss a single movement made by any of the other three men, although they were keeping their distance and had still not even moved from their respective positions.

"Why the hell not."

. . . . . . . . .

"Marie? Is Naomi at home?"

Kaiba had punched the number into his cell phone as soon as he had felt the intense tingling in his stomach. Something was bothering him, and the mere image that came to mind – very striking and powerful – was one of Naomi.

If he had believed in such things, he would have thought that it had all the auspices of being a bad omen.

"Did she say where she went?"

"No, sir."

"Very well. Inform me as soon as she returns."

_Naomi… where are you?_

_ Think, Kaiba… in broad daylight… where could she have gone? Alone?_

Kaiba let his gaze deviate to the bay window in his office, where the adorable crystal dragon was standing that she had given to him for Christmas.

_Grrr… why do I feel so bad all of a sudden?_

_ Calm down… she can defend herself, there's no risk… there's no – _

_ The orphanage! _he thought, suddenly slapping his forehead.

It was so obvious to him now.

He yanked up his phone again.

"Roland?"

. . . . . . . . .

"First, I must say that I am sorry for the terrible _accident _which befell you," her interlocutor began, pulling off his leather gloves.

_Accident?_

"I don't know what you're talking about," Naomi responded in a monotone.

"It was absolutely not expected."

Naomi raised her eyebrows again.

"But I am very happy to see how well you have been recovering…"

_That dirty… he knows…._

"At least, you seem to be alright now," he added. "You look radiant."

This time there was no longer a shadow of a doubt; he was talking about the aggression that she had undergone. Which made her become more alert than ever.

"What are you trying to get at?" she spat, on the verge of losing her patience. "Get to the point. That way you won't be wasting both of our time."

"Ah!" he exclaimed. "I can see who you've been spending time with. Kaiba is beginning to rub off on you… be very careful, my dear!"

Disgust swept across Naomi's face.

"I am not your 'dear'. Let's just get this over with!"

"Fine. As you wish…"

He left a slight pause. Then he began again:

"Your…friend… Mr. Kaiba… is in possession of something I wish to recover."

"Are you kidding me? Why not just ask _him _in that case?"

"Because I'm afraid it's something which directly concerns you."

"What?"

Naomi took another step backwards as shock took hold over her entire body.

"I still don't see what you mean."

He nodded, a hint of a smile curling his lips as he leaned against the car.

"I see… you are apparently not aware of all of your companion's actions."

"Of course not. And honestly, you're beginning to get on my nerves. Actually, I can't tell why I'm wasting my time talking to you."

She then whipped around and began to walk back towards the orphanage.

But she paused when she heard him call after her:

"Have you ever wondered what became of the men who kidnapped you?"

Naomi felt her body turn to ice.

No, nothing good could possibly come out of this situation. Her intuition hadn't failed her.

Slowly, she turned around to look at the man again, showing a slight, but undeniable, sense of interest.

"Especially the one that… brutalized you?"

There was no longer any doubt; he was perfectly aware of the entirety of this story. Which now made him the number one foe of the Kaiba household.

Because unless she was mistaken, this man was probably the instigator of those events.

"Meaning?"

"Again, I implore you to consider that Mr. Kaiba has hidden many things from you."

She couldn't find a response to that.

She wasn't about to _not _judge Kaiba, but it was at that moment the least of her worries, her principal fear standing in front of her.

"And… is there something I ought to know? Because you seem to be quite well-informed," she mocked, although no desire to laugh came to her.

"Oh, yes. I regret to inform you… that Seto Kaiba is most likely… a murderer."

Naomi forced herself to keep up her marble carapace despite the fact that all of the exact opposite sentiments were tugging at her soul. She was not going to show the slightest weakness to this guy.

"You aren't even surprised? I'm still of the opinion that you have no idea of the true identity of Seto Kaiba, even if you do share a bed."

"My sexual life is none of your concern," she snapped testily in response.

"No, of course not! You are correct. Only," he said, "I insist that you do not know him. You have absolutely no idea what he is capable of doing."

She gave an exasperated sigh.

"First you say he has something and now you're treating him like a murderer. Which one is the truth? And what the hell do you actually want?"

"Well… let's just say it is quickly becoming so, if it isn't already."

"My, what a very comprehensible sentence."

He stopped before the perspicacity of the young woman, who apparently wasn't seeing things eye to eye with him.

"Let me try again," he continued, still smiling. "We managed to trace the history of every man responsible in that event since that occurrence. Of them, one was gravely injured – graciously accorded to him by Mr. Kaiba – and another completely disappeared."

_Seto? _she thought, a doubt beginning to form.

But this wasn't the time. Even though a certain rage was burning in the middle of her stomach and was beginning to get to her head.

"It was the man who did the most harm to you. He was completely wiped off the face of the earth. Don't you wonder what happened to him? What _Kaiba _did to him, might I add?"

Naomi's eyes did not deviate. And God only knew how shaken she was by the revelation.

"As you can see, this does in fact directly concern you, my dear."

_Grrr…_

"And it is he who I desire to recover. Seto Kaiba only wished to deliver justice. I can understand his reasoning. But he had no right. You will consider it, won't you?"

She did not dare show the slightest hint of weakness. She still, however, was silent.

"You say nothing? I hope I haven't completely destroyed all of your wonderful preconceptions of your _prince charming_."

This time, she mocked him with her biggest smile.

"Oh, absolutely not," she said, proving to him that he had done nothing to unnerve her.

"I want that prisoner," he ordered, all seriousness.

"And I don't know where he is," she answered in the same tone.

"No, of course not. But he does."

"Is Seto Kaiba really so dangerous you can't just talk to him directly about this?"

He wasn't about to tell her that it wasn't yet time. But the moment would come where he would confront him, yes.

"And now?" she said. "Are you going to take me hostage to do an exchange or something?"

"Whatever do you mean by that? It never even crossed my mind."

_Oh, yeah? Like I'm going to believe that. You already tried, dumbass._

"Sooner or later, you're going to have to talk to him, not me."

"Oh, I know. I was counting on it."

_Counting on it… counting on it?_

The threat still hung in the air; it was quite valid. His words were like bullets ramming into Naomi, bullets that raised loud alarm bells.

"But I believe you underestimate your power over Kaiba."

"_MISTER _KAIBA!" she almost roared, outraged that he dared not show him the respect he deserved.

They stared at each other for several seconds, although she still couldn't tell what the color of his eyes were.

"Whatever. All I want for now – "

_For now_, Naomi quickly noted.

" – is to have back the prisoner."

"And I still say that you have to talk to him first," she concluded, turning on her heels.

"I'm delighted to have met you, my dear."

All of the muscles in Naomi's body stiffened.

"I'm sorry I couldn't be of more assistance."

The four men watched her walk away without adding anything further.

. . . . . . . . .

A short time later, Naomi heard the car's engine roar to life, sign that they were departing. A brief sense of relief allowed her to catch her breath. Because she suddenly felt that she wasn't breathing.

What if it were true?

What if Seto were truly capable of such a thing? Capable of refuting the basic rights of humanity to impose his own rule of law?

He hadn't lied; they had never discussed it. She couldn't even reproach him. But if he was holding a man, as loathsome as he was, she was of the opinion that morally, it wasn't permissible.

Besides… why would he do so? Didn't he consider the possible consequences that doing so could entail?

But most all, _had _he done so?

. . . . . . . . .

"No, Mokuba!" she snapped hotly. "You're blocking backwards and you're attacking back with your other fist.. you have to make your opponent take a step back so you're not too close to their body and can't get in another hit! You'd be at their mercy!"

She had had an indisputable sense of patience. But the moment was not the right one. The courses of self-defense had doubled in ardor. She knew full well that Mokuba would be an attractive target for potential abductors, like he always had been. And this enraged her so much that she momentarily forgot she was addressing the young man about his incapacity to learn as quickly as she could.

But time was not on her side.

"Nao," he almost shouted, "I can't!"

"Yes, you can, Moki…"

"Can we stop for today? Seto will be home soon – "

"No! Keep going. Your brother has to learn about this someday. And you have to learn to defend yourself, Mokuba. It's important."

"Stop it! It's like you think my life depends on it!" he barked, already wiped out by more than an hour of intensive training, his forehead covered with sweat and his outfit beginning to cling disgustingly to his entire body.

_Yes, it does!_

But Naomi would never let those words leave her mouth.

She probably seemed like a tyrant given the fact she was forcing him to press onward. Even the light throbbing pain in her sides wasn't stopping her.

"Come on. Slap me!" she insisted again.

"No!"

"Mokuba! You will stay and you will continue or the lessons are over. Understood?"

But how could he possibly know that she was doing this because she knew that he was in danger? Because she was trying in every way possible to speed up the learning process, too harshly maybe, but it was her sole intention.

She was exhausted as well. But as if it were the last fight she would ever be in, she didn't give a single scrap of an advantage to her adversary. Not anymore than he already had.

_Grrr… can it be?_

Kaiba opened the door to the large room in which Naomi and Mokuba were training.

_No… this can't be._

And yet an odd sense of pride flooded his heart. His brother excelled in martial arts? And he had never even said a word.

Yes, he was very happy.

There was just one little problem – it was Naomi who, unwisely, was teaching him.

What the hell could she be thinking?

He knew better than anyone her physical state of being, having the immensely pleasurable opportunity of demystifying every inch of her body every single day. So he had the evidence needed to hold a valid opinion.

And it made him quite angry to see her fighting without the slightest consideration of her wounds.

The two of them froze for a second when they saw him straddling the doorway, a frank look on his face.

_Don't get involved with this, Seto._

But was it an order or a warning?

Would he even listen to it?

"Oh! Big brother!" Mokuba shouted, half-ashamed to be caught in the act and half happy that the last secret which had been separating them had finally been unveiled.

Seto smiled at his little brother. Of course he was happy with him.

"Come on, Moki," Naomi said, turning to ignore Kaiba's presence. "Keep going."

"By the look on your face, it looks like you've had enough for today," Kaiba said as he approached them.

He had noticed their exhaustion and the redness which blotched their faces.

Again, Naomi acted as if he didn't exist. Only Mokuba hesitated at the judicious counsel of his brother – who he hoped would change Naomi's mind – and her direct order as she stood in attack position.

"Moki!" she snapped again.

"I… I can't, Nao…" he babbled. "I'm tired, I don't want to slap you."

"Why?"

"Because you're a girl and I don't want to," he admitted ashamedly.

"Bullcrap!" she yelled. "Do you think a girl would have any second thoughts about knocking you out if she needed to?"

"Naomi, calm down," Kaiba said as he stood near them, analyzing the anger in her voice as well as something else in her tone he couldn't quite put his finger on.

But Mokuba was so affected by the dilemma that he was practically shaking.

She exhaled, very irritated.

"Fine. So."

She turned towards Kaiba, and continued:

"I'm sure that if you can't, your brother can. Isn't that right, Kaiba?"

_Kaiba? WHAT?_

He almost recoiled in horror.

She was so aggressive all of a sudden. She was even deliberately provoking him.

What did she want to prove? And to whom?

"Here. I'll show you the movement," she began again, preparedly exhaling between her teeth as if she were asking for him to beat the crap out of her.

But Kaiba, who had had other ideas since before he even walked into the room – others besides slapping Naomi so she'd stop overworking herself – decided on another plan of action.

He already bitterly regretted it. And he already hated himself from the action that he was about to do. But he had to do it. Even if it were risky. Everything was risky when it came to Naomi.

She still hadn't finished him showing him the technique when he jumped at her, seizing her violently in his arms and squeezing her so tightly it would surely cause her newfound pain in her sides.

"No! Seto! Let her go!" Mokuba cried furiously as he saw Naomi wince at the pain that the vice-like grip was causing her.

She had gasped out all of her breath, and was now fighting to breathe.

But it was Kaiba who was suffering most. The two of them just didn't know it.

_It's for your own good, angel, even if it's painful… I know… I'm sorry._

He then released his grasp, allowing her to breathe more adequately. But he still held her in his arms, giving her an implacable look which betrayed all of the worry in the world that was lodged inside of him.

She was having trouble breathing.

But she still managed to stop Mokuba, who had shoved himself between them now. She knew that he was angry at his brother.

"No, I'm okay, Moki," she whispered with some difficulty before placing her hands on Kaiba's chest and shoving him backwards, meeting his gaze with eyes aflame.

"Seto! Why'd you hurt her? Why?" Mokuba was screaming, who couldn't comprehend his brother's actions in the slightest.

_I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Naomi._

Kaiba didn't take his eyes off of her blemished face.

"I'm fine, Moki. In fact… your brother just saved my life."

"What?"

"In a real fight, an opponent wouldn't have been as lenient and would have taken advantage of my weakness."

She, too, had not stopped staring at Kaiba, who she was sure was feeling great distress somewhere inside of him.

"… right, Seto?"

Without even saying a word, Kaiba seemed completely impassible, as if he had done his duty sans remorse.

However, once he was outside of their line of sight, he fell against a wall, shocked by what he had done.

Worse, the pain was so bad in his chest that he was shaking.

But it was for her own good.

Or maybe his own.

It was true, he had reacted badly. Instead of being encouraging, instead of being proud of him – which he was – he had preferred to demolish his confidence with the secondary motive of holding her even longer in his arms. Show her that she was secure under his protection alone.

And it was this ungrateful gesture which was making him so mortally suffer now.

He had hurt her.

It was ultimately unpardonable.

He heard hurried footsteps behind him.

Mokuba.

"What's wrong with you? Why'd you do that?"

Kaiba turned his back to him, unable to find the words to excuse his behavior.

"Hey, I'm talking to you!" he yelled imperiously.

"That's enough, Mokuba! Speak to me with more respect."

Mokuba was hurt by his actions, too. He never would have thought his brother capable of such a maneuver.

"Congratulations," he spat, his eyes sparkling with the irony in his tone of voice. "Was this part of your plan to keep her here?"

Kaiba sighed heavily.

_No. No… never… no…_

Of course, he deserved all of his brother's reprobation. But not his hatred.

"Let me tell you something, Seto. If it was, you really need to rethink your strategy!"

Then, without adding another word, he whipped around to rejoin Naomi downstairs.

"It's fine, really," Naomi told him when she met him halfway up the stairs.

"Are you sure? _Really _sure? You're not trying to just reassure me, are you?"

He was truly shaken by what had happened.

"Yes. I'm quite sure. He didn't hurt me that badly. Besides, in his own way, he had a reason to do it. It made me realize that I have to train even more. That's all."

Deep down, her first reflex had been to roughly shove him aside, not physically hurt him in retaliation. Hadn't she spent so many hours over the years fighting just to avoid such a confrontation? It would be easy to defend herself. She knew that well. Yet she couldn't force herself, persuaded that he hadn't done it happily. Above all, because she knew now that he was purely and totally incapable of causing her the slightest bit of harm.

But she had let him hurt her. And she did nothing to stop it.

Mokuba stood there for several seconds with his mouth wide open, not knowing what to say or do in response.

"Oh, and by the way… I'm sorry, Moki. I didn't mean to push you so hard."

Then she softly kissed him on the cheek.

"But I only want what's best for you. Just like your brother. Never forget that."

_She's already forgiven him?_

_ I'd have trouble doing it that fast…_

. . . . . . . . .

_Idiot!_

Kaiba was again walled up in the darkness of his office. He wished more than anything else in that moment to not have any company.

He felt annihilated by his own cowardice. And by the gash he had voluntarily made in his own heart.

He had ignored his affection for the two people he cherished most in the world by maladroitly walking away as he had.

Yes, he deserved all of the anger that had been alight in his brother's eyes. And yes, he had felt all of the suffering in Naomi's body as if it had been his own.

How could they possibly talk to one another now?

Despite everything, one question was storming about in his head.

_What the hell have I done?_

Knocking on the door forced him to collapse into his chair.

He didn't have the time to tell the person enter before the light caught the thin shadow of Naomi walking into the room.

He shot up, ready to welcome her into his arms or to throw himself to her knees to beg for her forgiveness. He wasn't sure quite what he should do.

She was looking at him with sad eyes, certainly, but so deeply so that he almost felt it impossible for him to stand them staring at him.

He wasn't so brave after all.

It was, however, her reaction which stunned him the most as she softly walked over to him to fall into his arms.

_I don't deserve this, Naomi…_

"I feel lost, Seto…"

_And I feel so tired…_

Tenderly, he held her close, sighing softly as if the sky were just as blue as was before he had committed the horrible deed.

"I didn't want to…"

"I know," she responded, pressing her body even more intensely against his own.

She seemed to feel all of Kaiba's pain during the embrace.

How could such a sweet man also be so cruel?

"Seto… we have to talk."

He placed a kiss in her hair.

"Yes."

Then she separated herself from him.

"Sit down, please."

"I can easily stand."

"No, sit down. You're not going to like what I'm about to tell you."

_No… she's not going to tell me that she's…. leaving?_

That would explain the sweetness of her actions, her sudden uncertainty.

It took her several seconds to open her mouth, as if she were looking for the appropriate words to start the conversation.

But as per her demand, he sat down, listening to her attentively.

"What happened to the men who kidnapped Mokuba and me?"

Kaiba had difficulty hiding his surprise.

"They're where they belong – they're in prison."

"All of them?"

"What?"

Kaiba sunk further into the chair, as if he suddenly found himself glued down.

_What are you trying to say, Naomi?_

"Are you sure that they are ALL in prison?"

Kaiba preferred to avoid responding directly.

"Why ask? None of them can hurt you anymore."

_Idiot! You're the one that hurt her! Grr…_

"Seto!" she said gravely. "Are you sure that they are all in prison?"

She was insisting so seriously that he began to wonder.

"Did you talk to someone?"

"Oh, so you admit it! Tell me the truth…Seto."

"I'm not admitting anything. They're no longer a threat to anyone, and that's all that matters."

She sighed loudly, shaking her head from side to side. Seto furrowed his eyebrows.

Why this question? Why now?

"Naomi, what happened?"

"I met a guy who believes you are keeping a man prisoner. The man that wounded me."

Kaiba almost stopped breathing.

"What? You _what_? Who? Who did you speak to?"

"Is it true, Seto?"

If there were going to keep playing cat and mouse, they would be doing so for hours to come.

"What if it was?" he asked, partially admitting his guilt to the crime.

"It can't be true! Seto, how could you?"

Anger flushed his face.

"What about him? How could _he _have done what he did? He didn't have a shred of compassion, a shred of morality, and his bloody hands were wrapped around you…"

He had to stop himself from speaking, too choked up at the horrid memory.

"I could barely recognize you, Naomi, when he… so how could I have possibly pitied the bastard? Tell me!"

_So he did it… for me?_

Everything became so clear, and she barely had to say another word. Kaiba had just evolved beyond what her imagination could have envisioned.

"Who talked to you, Naomi? Tell me now!"

Shocked, she looked to breathe in before she continued.

"We're still in danger, Seto. Especially you and Mokuba. I think it was the man in charge of the entire group. And worse – he's still free, Seto."

Kaiba was enraged now.

How could he have been so easily duped? How could he have lacked this much vigilance?

"Tell me… I need to know everything."

So she told him about all of the mysterious times that the car had followed her, from the beginning until that afternoon at the orphanage. And, naturally, she always made an abstraction of her thoughts and feelings. The moment was too much of an immediate danger.

"He wants that prisoner, Seto."

He whipped around, shaking in his ire.

"No. Absolutely not!"

Hadn't he made a promise?

"In fact, I honestly think it's just a cover-up. I'm not sure that he's all that he wants. You have to think first and foremost about protecting Mokuba. This is really important, Seto."

"Who do you think I am? You think I would let my brother come and go as he pleases with that kind of threat over our heads?"

"That's not what I said."

"No, you're right. I'll take care of it."

"You still haven't told me what you did to that prisoner."

"I have no intention of ever telling you, Naomi."

Her head rose. Too many things were happening at once. But one thing was for certain: everything was going from bad to worse.

. . . . . . . . .

"Good evening!"

The clock on the wall read five forty-five in the afternoon.

"Good evening, ma'am. I hope it's not too late… I thought that you might close earlier."

"We do. But for you," said the director with a smile, "I can make a tiny exception. You have a little time to – "

"Thank you," said the man, a stranger that she had never before seen in her life. "Let me just get straight to the point. I really want to adopt a child."

"Oh! Really?" she asked, balking. "That's very kind of you."

"Isn't it?" he asked, flashing her a charming smile. "I _love _children. But I haven't been able to have one yet… my wife is sterile…"

"Oh, what a shame. I'm truly sorry."

"Really, ma'am, it's not your fault," he said in a tone dripping with sweetness. "Anyway… I'm very interested in getting a girl. Actually… I saw one this afternoon. She was playing outside with a woman, probably one of your employees, I don't know. Do you think I could meet her for a moment?"

. . . . . . . . .

Naomi had left a while ago, but Kaiba was as bitter as ever.

But there was something else now that was getting his attention. Laying on the corner of his desk was a white envelope titled with only his name, written awkwardly in a child's scrawl.

Kaiba took the envelope and opened it. It was a drawing of a superb white dragon, his symbol, accompanied by a letter. It was signed by a ten-year old boy named Jeremy Armbrust.

* * *

I admit, I made a slight change here. In the original story, Jeremy's last name is "Amburst". I changed it because when I looked online to see if it was a real last name I couldn't find anything, and the closest option was a name which happens to be German for 'crossbow', which is cool.


	24. Chapter 24

This story belongs to Melzart, and the Yu-Gi-Oh! franchise is copyright to Kazuki Takahashi.

* * *

Chapter 24

_The Exile_

Why had he hung it up?

He didn't quite know why he had decorated the wall of his office with the drawing and letter of such a young admirer.

Or maybe he did. He knew exactly why.

He had placed it beside Mokuba's, which as a child he had also drawn. The one that made him suddenly remember so much.

More than anything, he was touched by Jeremy's letter.

Ever since Naomi arrived Kaiba was forced to admit that his humanity was gaining on his legendary inflexibility; he was learning to be more sensible, more tolerant, more inclined to forgive, more compassionate. What she had managed to extirpate was priceless – he had felt helpless for quite some time.

However he never would have thought it possible that any being, as extraordinary as he could be, could in part discover a part of his soul he thought too hidden in obscurity in some distant abyss.

Of course it had taken a lot to reach where he was now. No pain, no gain.

And this young man allowed him to remember the long struggle to climb the dangerous mountain of the world's business elite.

Yes, Jeremy had moved him.

And Naomi was troubling him again. She held every power over him, yet did not seem to know how to – or did not want to – abuse them for her own gain. And the way she pardoned everything he did, even the worst things, shocked him and also upset him; she was probably the best person in the world to ask for a clarification of his own actions. She knew them. Better. She had memorized them. If it weren't so hard to hunt through the ruins of her past, he was convinced that their life together would be without parallel.

Yet _voila. _The truth remained that Naomi still hadn't stopped suffering and closing herself off from him, even in the silent comfort of his arms.

It was already getting late; the sky had darkened over the earth.

Yet Kaiba still sat before his computer screen, resolute to not take much longer. He wanted to find her family, an act which was proving elusive. He understood that Mokuba would have loved to know about this.

And that bothered him.

It was true that he was pushing it. He wasn't proud of that at all. On the contrary; his tongue could still taste a certain bitterness. As always, he regretted what he was doing. But hadn't he warned his brother to not get in the way of whatever plans he had in mind?

Even if he were to do the least bit of harm that he could, he would still hate himself.

But he had to get a hold of himself, face the facts again. This wasn't supposed to be a sinecure.

He was shaken from his thoughts with the sound of his phone ringing.

"Kaiba," he said, his tone uniform.

His face was distorted with a pained frown, not to mention outrage.

"What?"

_Agh… is he ready for anything? Even something as low as that? Grrr…_

And then he felt himself sitting up ramrod-straight in his chair.*

"Yes… do that," he sighed. "Very well."

Then he hung up, very slowly, as if afraid that he could run away from the machine, his face hardening from the terrible bit of news.

It wasn't anything good at all.

And January was near its end.

Was everything going to end up working out for this most difficult task?

February 1st was approaching rapidly – it was three days away.

Kaiba felt even more bitter as he thought about that date. Because it marked a turn for the worse in Naomi's life, an end to the existential world that wouldn't stop because he was simply by her side.

That, yes, he feared terribly; he was already sick to his stomach because he realized perfectly well how powerless he was and how he would have to watch her suffer again, probably worse than he could have possibly imagined until now.

And he was going to attend a spectacle which he couldn't even lift a finger to stop.

It would be a wasted effort, after all. He wasn't at all certain that she would even let him offer her any help. He was actually more inclined to believe that she would reject him, an idea that was difficult for him to swallow, even with what he knew.

Kaiba sighed heavily; there was still some time to get a hold of himself.

He at least knew what he _wasn't _going to do: flee, abandon her at the one time that she would need him most.

But first he believed the time had come to explain things to his little brother.

So he hurriedly left his office, not wanting to delay things any more than he could allow.

In no time he had raced across the hall and run up the stairs to the third floor.

_Knock, knock, knock._

When the door opened, Mokuba looked crestfallen – as if he still hadn't accepted his recent action, given the look of hate that he was immediately privy to seeing.

"Mokuba," Kaiba breathed, suddenly uncertain of himself. "I told you that I would someday need your help. Well… that would be now."

The young man opened his mouth, and then shut it again.

. . . . . . . . .

Times were grave.

So was she.

This wasn't her fight.

So why try to stay? What was holding her in his arms?

Naomi's fingers affectionately swept across Kaiba's torso as she lay against him. It wasn't a habit and probably never would be. It had become a _need _to feel their bodies intertwine and melt into each other.

And both of them were more ardent in doing so each and every time, and they didn't miss a single day.

"You know it's dangerous, don't you?" she whispered.

"I know…" he responded, deep in thought.

_What I want to know is why he wants to have that dick back again…_

But Kaiba kept that question to himself.

"I think I agree with you," she continued. "If he's aware of what happened, we can't reject the idea that he is truly responsible for this entire mess."

She was right. But Kaiba, despite the circumstances, couldn't help but let a pleasantly surprised smile from emerging in response.

Naomi was as worried as he was. Even better, she was effectively searching for a cause, showing her intelligence in trying to go to the source to protect both him and Mokuba.

"And if, from the beginning, he was the instigator of the kidnapping…"

Kaiba lost his tender smile, but he pulled her more closely towards him.

"Yeah, I thought about that," he murmured as if he had just hit a roadblock.

Whence came the most persistent danger in this situation.

When and how had this guy – which he didn't even know about beforehand – gotten this knowledge?

And above all, just who did he think he was, anyway?

He seemed to understand things quite clearly, given the news he had received.

A very unpleasant shiver flooded down Kaiba's vertebral column.

Yes. He was scared. But it wasn't for himself.

He didn't think he was capable of reliving the nightmare a second time. And he was far from ready to let anyone put her in danger.

How he hated losing control of the situation.

But his threat was growing more terrifying than the preceding one.

"Don't worry about me," she breathed as if she were reading his thoughts. "Think about Mokuba… he's the most…vulnerable."

Kaiba closed his eyes again, not daring to hold her any closer because he would risk revealing just how worried he actually was.

Didn't she understand how much she meant to him yet?

He thought that at that precise instant, Mokuba was far less likely of a target than she was.

He wondered if she even knew just how touched he was.

Of course, she could defend herself. But that had been useless the day he had rescued her off of the cold floor, unconscious and smothered in blood.

And his mind blocked him from remembering that ignoble, barbaric, nightmarish vision.

No. He would never want to relive it. He would give it his all, indeed, more, so that it wouldn't happen again.

Yes. Seto Kaiba would joyfully sacrifice himself to never see her suffer that much ever again.

"You got a plan?"

She knew Seto Kaiba too well now to not know that he had a certain response in mind. He certainly wasn't going to stand there and wait for something to happen without doing something first.

Kaiba sighed, somewhat amusedly.

And to think they accused him of underhandedly seeing everything before it happened.

"I first have to find out who he is. And when I do that…"

"Seto?"

"Hm."

"I don't know why, but I really feel something bad is going to happen," she managed to admit.

Yes. He did too. Seeing as he knew where this began.

But for how long would Seto be able to keep things hidden from her?

For now, which was still peaceful, he chose to purposefully avoid hassling Naomi further, as he turned towards her and rolled on top of her.

"Hey," he said as he kissed her on the lips. "Don't worry about it."

She forgot everything while in his embrace, as if she were being reborn each time he touched her. He no longer had a past, no longer a future. There was just a now.

But she remembered, before she fell into the most pure of delights, having thought that he was tormented. Maybe even more than she was.

Alas, no.

This wasn't her fight.

So why did she stay?

. . . . . . . . .

Faithful to his daily norm, Kaiba had left the house.

He had first spent a long time watching Naomi slumber. Then, very tenderly, before getting out of bed, he had kissed her forehead, but not without feeling atrociously sick at the same time. Hadn't he kept silent just so that she would find it all out soon enough?

The day was to prove to be a difficult one.

He had so many things to do.

Why couldn't he just stay?

What did she have to lose? Besides, who knew if it would all just crumble in due time?

Who could say?

Nothing lasts. Sooner or later, everything's got to give.

And what is loved is lost.

Yes. And time was going so fast.

Three days. Merely three days before falling back into the worst of slumps, just like every year.

Like a ritual.

Forever.

His heart could not beat any faster in his chest because he was going to stay, permanently.

. . . . . . . . .

What was she going to do with Seto?

It was one of those times that she had to deal with things on her own. One of those times where there's no peace, just as if it didn't exist at all.

How was she going to tell him what she thought about things?

And why was there an irresistible desire to keep spinning in orbit around him like some sort of satellite? He had succeeded in taking care of her wounds, making her forget they even existed for perhaps hours whenever he was there, whenever the sun wasn't shining as brightly.

Thus was the aggregate sum of her thoughts upon awakening and shifting her body in his soft bed; she was going to continue her course, her training, even get Mokuba involved perhaps, and then she would also recommence her job at the hotel as well as her other activities.

She had to take back control of her life. For better or for worse. To writhe free of Kaiba's grip, go back to the daily grind.

Besides, she could still continue to visit him while still living anywhere else but this despicable house. There was nothing he could do; it was stronger than even she was.

Each time memories of the Kaiba children came back to her, she re-felt the need to escape this infernal place. The shadow of their adoptive father still loomed. And she was horrified of it.

She got dressed, again as always in black, then descended to the kitchen to greet Marie, faithfully at her post.

"Oh, ma'am?" she said as soon as she saw the young woman walk into the room. "You received a message and the woman said it was very important."

Naomi took the slip of paper that Marie handed her.

This time her anxiety went beyond description as she suddenly raced for the nearest phone.

"Hello? This is Naomi."

"Ah? Ohh… Naomi…" said Mrs. Kinoshi, at first enthusiastic to hear the person with whom she was speaking. But the tone of her voice rapidly betrayed her as she suddenly quited.

Bad news is never easy to announce.

She didn't succeed in fooling the young woman, who already suspected the worst.

"Oh… I…Naomi… I thought I should give you the latest news, because I know how close you are to the children…" she began.

_No. No. Don't tell me…_

"Well… somebody offered to take Molina…"

She hadn't known how to say it. But she had finally opted for the frankest path possible.

"I'm sorry, Naomi. I would have liked to tell you personally…but…"

But Naomi wasn't listening anymore.

_I…abandoned…her…she also… I didn't…_

She had to fight to hold back her tears, conscious that she wasn't alone and that Marie, who was just on the other side of the room, had become worried upon perceiving a major shift in her attitude.

_Say something….anything…_

But choked-down sobs knotted in her silent throat.

She somehow managed to clear her throat after several seconds – which seemed like an eternity – and regain control of herself.

"Oh…when?"

"The adoption was made yesterday evening, officially," said the director of the orphanage.

_Last evening?_

This time, Naomi shook violently; didn't it match up with that aggravating meeting with the guy in the limousine? Hadn't he the pleasure of watching the children at play, especially the one that had been closest to her?

_This can't be true… can't be true… no… this can't be…_

But she had to know. She had to keep pushing on.

"And…who…who showed up to – "

Then her voice cut off in mid-sentence, as if the task she had to accomplish had suddenly proved superhuman.

"Oh, Naomi, I can't… it's confidential, as you know…"

Naomi was trembling, having to push the phone into her head to keep herself thinking straight. And she felt her knees wobble, a sign that she was about to tip over at any moment.

Again, she felt that bad omen. The rage in her stomach.

"Mrs. Kinoshi…please…I beg of you… I have to know."

She could never have phrased it any better.

The entire response consisted of a short silence; the woman was undoubtedly thinking about whether she should unveil the information or not, connected as she was by friendship.

She changed her mind. After all, with what Naomi had done and continued to do for those children, she had no right to keep her completely in the dark.

But she also had no right to divulge such personal information.

"Naomi, I understand…but…"

_No, I don't think you do…_

"It was a man," she decided to admit. It even seemed like the answer flew out of her mouth before she could think about stopping herself from saying anything.

So, was there still hope? Just a tiny bit?

"Was he married…was someone with him?"

Naomi saw the walls around her begin to retreat as she felt her strength leaving her body. In reality, her forehead was stuck against it.

"I'm sorry… I can't tell you any more than that," said Mrs. Kinoshi. "I'm required to…"

_This is my fault… my fault… I should have seen this coming, I should have been wiser…. because of me, she… I abandoned her… I abandoned…_

Naomi hung up, no longer caring about anything else.

She felt extracorporeal, completely lost in a universe so dark that even shadows looked like bright lights in comparison to their surroundings.

The assurance drained away from her ivory face, being replaced by a most burning sense of guilt.

Empty – like stuffed game which no longer possesses the breath of life, she began to walk into the hall without looking ahead of her, an automaton.

Mokuba was about to share his amazingly good mood with her when he saw the ashen-faced silhouette drift in front of him. She was so pale it appeared that she could faint; her steps were slow, as if she were on some sort of stride-stabilizing drug.

_Naomi? What is she – _

She didn't even look at him.

He actually doubted that she realized he was even there.

But Mokuba suddenly felt a painful weight in his stomach.

He could easily see that something bad had happened but he didn't dare inquire as to what, uncertain that she was the right person to ask.

But Seto had already left.

For once, of the three of them, he was sure that he was the most anxious of them all.

It was with this feeling that he raced out of the house to a limousine waiting outside.

It probably wasn't a very good idea to leave her perfectly alone in the somber maze of her thoughts. But what better could he do than warn his brother as quickly as possible?**

. . . . . . . . .

_I couldn't do anything… anything… I left her all alone…_

_ She's all alone, scared… in the dark… she's…_

_ I couldn't… say goodbye… hold her in my arms…I…_

Where better than in the shower to let all of the tears leave her body?

There where nobody knew what hid in the depths of her feverish and lost soul?

However she had so much more left in reserve.

Wasn't she responsible?

Yes.

Yet she knew that this day would have to come.

Molina had every right to find a loving, attentive family.

And she knew that it would hurt when she left. She saw it coming.

But what she hadn't seen was the circumstances during which it would occur; Naomi understood her fate only too well if it had been the man in the limousine who had taken her under his wing.

She didn't doubt it; he would user her against both her and Kaiba. Probably as blackmail because he seemed to have used it in the past. It would have to be part of his diabolical plans to get at them.

And that was exactly what disgusted her most: using a six-year-old girl which couldn't fight back.

She had done enough harm. She had also received enough.

First Kaiba. Then Molina.

Wasn't it the signal to leave that was ringing so loudly in her ears?

It was so much to handle. And the weight on her shoulders was so heavy.

The water from the showerhead trickled over her body, masking the tears that she refused to let herself hear – the moaning.

However, it was crazy how she was suffering, paving the way for the sinister day which was rapidly approaching.

Hadn't she brought all of this unhappiness?

Maybe it was her destiny to live and die, suffering like a martyr.

So be it.

At least she had lived.

. . . . . . . . .

_How much time did she have left before he returned? Would she at least have the time to pack her suitcase? If not, in what state would she find Marik if he were to walk up to her once again?_

_ It was cowardly to leave, maybe. But her well-being depended on the escape, even desperately so. She was too conscious of the fact that the Egyptian was locked in battle that was not his own. Worse, she no longer knew which of the two would hurt her more._

Knock… knock… knock.

_ Naomi was flooded by a new feeling of terror as she stared at the door as if it were about to burst open._

If it's Marik…I…

_"Naomi! It's Odion! Let me in, I beg you!"_

_ She began to breathe normally again, recognizing Marik's pleasant traveling companion, even as the door opened._

_ "Are you alright?... he didn't hurt you, did he? Oh…"_

_ He caught sight of the large open suitcase on the bed, as well as of the intermingled pieces of clothing only partially stuffed inside._

_ "…you're leaving?"_

_ Naomi did not respond, but preferred to dodge the question by bowing her head._

_ "…he wasn't himself," Odion confessed. "He told me what happened. And… I'm asking you to forgive him, Naomi."_

_ "But it's not your fault, Odion."_

_ More embarrassedly, he continued:_

_ "It might as well be. I should have known. I had thought it might occur for some time now… I saw that things weren't quite right. But I had never thought that he might represent such a danger to you. I didn't pay attention. I'm sorry."_

_ She sighed softly._

_ "It's not your fault, Odion," she repeated._

It's my fault. I'm damned, _she thought to herself._

_ "It's really hard to explain, but please believe me when I say that it was not Marik," he insisted. "Don't leave like this. At least without saying goodbye to him. I beg you."_

_ "But – " she wanted to complain._

_ "He won't come back tonight. I promise. I'm looking after him."_

_ He wasn't about to tell her that Marik was in another room, stuck to his bed, his soul ripped into a good and evil half which were fighting over his body. But it was under the request of Marik that Odion had submitted._

_ He only hoped that with the new day that was going to arise, he would at least have time to regain control of himself – be the winner – over the monster which haunted him._

_ "Don't go."_

_ Naomi again sighed, this one somewhat pained, still shaken by the savage aggression she had seen._

_ Maybe he felt it himself, but Odion allowed himself for the first time to show her all of his compassion in hugging her very protectively._

_ "I'm just on the other side of the door, you can sleep… just stay until tomorrow."_

_ No. He wasn't about to say that the otherworldly beast inhabiting Marik's body would be completely unaddressed by his courage to play the guardian angel. And that he, himself, couldn't do much in sum if directly confronted by him. He couldn't pull his own weight._

_ But he knew that with Marik's will, which still existed beyond all appearances, neither one of them would let the monster reclaim his body in the coming hours._

_ It seemed to him now that he hadn't slept all night._

_ Yet the sun was rising, indicating to him that he was wrong. It was nine-thirty._

_ Maybe it was due to Odion's attempt to comfort her, but she eventually managed to fall asleep._

_ Which wasn't about to prove itself useless as the time to leave was drawing closer and she would need her courage._

_ It had even occurred to her that maybe Marik had proven an ideal companion for this portion of her travels; he was patient and generous. And she noticed that he had felt for her; he only wished her the best._

_ Yes, she often surprised herself in thinking that maybe he could have been the one to heal all of her wounds._

_ Only now she knew it couldn't be true. Because Marik had his own demons to fight, and they had proved to be far more dangerous than her own._

_ And what worried her on this day of departure was the thought of looking at him. Was he going to urge her to abandon him, to save herself? Was he going to have judged her more harshly than she had herself?_

_ She believed that maybe she should have never known him; he had never made the slightest comment concerning the barriers surrounding her heart, after all._

_ Only one suitcase. It was all she needed, as she had no permanent home. It was always better to travel light. Anything else was too cumbersome._

_ She chose the outside terrace for their last meeting._

_ There, she waited silently as she sipped some Greek coffee, having learned which one was the best. Deep down, she hated goodbyes and would have done anything to not be so obligated._

_ But it was at Odion's insistence that she had resolved herself to do so. Even it was just a deep thank you for their friendship._

_ "Naomi," Marik whispered as he approached her from behind._

_ He had chosen, in a calm moment accompanied by his brother, to go for a long walk before seeing her again, like a young hero beginning his peregrination in search of a quest._

_ She jumped, still not having dared turn to look at him. But she scrambled up quickly._

_ Discretely, Odion had retired to a distance a bit further away, wanting to give them this last intimate moment._

_ "It's me, Naomi," he said, as if reassuring her of his current identity._

_ Then he stopped for a second before continuing slowly:_

_ "I'm sorry… for having hurt you…"_

_ He couldn't dare look at her. But Naomi had no difficulty detecting his suffering, or envisioning his bloodshot eyes._

_ "I'm not sure I'm the one who is in the most trouble, Marik," she said, her insides feeling distinctly empty._

_ Maybe if she hadn't been there, none of this would have happened._

_ Yes. She was convinced that this was all her fault._

_ He had passed the night split between raging over his imprisonment and intermittent periods of lucidity._

_ So as to not alarm Naomi, Odion had spent his with his hand over his friend's mouth so that she would not be able to hear him shriek in anger, keeping him solidly pinned in place._

_ It was a night like which he would never wish to again relive._

_ And it was false – Marik knew that none of his personal complaints compared to Naomi's suffering._

_ It was this thought that made him raise his head to look into her lilac eyes._

_ Very carefully and very softly, Marik's fingers came to rest on her cheeks._

_ "I'm sorry," he repeated more firmly._

_ She had begun to shake, although she hadn't wished to show it. But nothing escaped Marik's senses, and he begin to worry even more._

_ "I would have loved to have been the one to bring an end to your suffering, Naomi. I thought I was strong enough. Only the Gods know how much I desired it."_

_ As if to wipe away his assurances, she shook her head, sighing quietly._

_ "I don't think any mortal can, Marik."_

_ Affectionately, he placed his lips on her forehead._

_ "I know," he whispered, "so I will be immortal when we next meet."_

_ He earned an emotional, slightly mocking smile._

_ Wasn't there a saying that it's the thought that counts?_

_ "I'm not used to goodbyes, Marik…"_

_ This time, the Egyptian gently took her in his hands._

_ "This isn't 'goodbye', Naomi. This is 'see you later'."_

_ She didn't want to tell him that she didn't agree. But she approved all the same with a light nod of the head and a smile._

_ "Thanks for everything, Marik."_

_ He looked taken aback. Wasn't his happiness about to leave with a suitcase in its hand?_

_ And he was the one who made her leave so soon._

_ But he waited until she had gone before murmuring:_

_ "No… thank _you._"_

. . . . . . . . .

There was nothing reassuring Molina; hadn't she just been ripped from the only world she knew, the one that she had learned to cherish and make her own?

In less than an hour, as if the times were urgent, she had seen two small suitcases quickly fill, with barely any time to hug those who had taken such good care of her and her friends as well, even if they _were _the boys she joked about with Naomi.

But it was probably the greatest pain she could stand at the moment: despite all of her hopes, after having hoped for a long time that she would become her mother, Naomi was not at the meeting. She had looked all the way to her room for the limousine which marked her presence before the entrance without seeing the slightest trace.

And despite the kindness of the big man who was holding her hand, she hadn't stopped crying as she peered out of the back window of the car, just in case.

But Naomi never appeared.

In the limousine, the man wearing the sunglasses kept on handing her tissue after tissue.

He secretly admired the little girl, who was trying to not let him hear all of her pain and heartbreak. There was just sniffling.

But they were just as atrocious.

He was just a simple messenger. So he couldn't do much to soothe the child's suffering, even though he was deeply moved by her.

He almost felt that the ride back was interminable, until they finally reached a small white house, where they came to a stop.

Her room was enormous, and numerous toys were abundantly sprinkled over the floor. Even her bed was big, and it was pink, too. It was the most beautiful room she had seen in her entire short existence.

She even took the time to notice, through the window past the street beyond, a small park where she immediately understood she would have fun visiting.

Again, however, her heart was filled with chagrin when she saw the swing set, as she thought of Naomi.

Less than an hour later, there was a knock on her bedroom door, a demonstration no doubt of the respect that she believed she would come to expect.

Then another man, also very tall, walked in.

The young girl's face filled with fear. So the man, without making any sudden movements, took a chair and placed it in front of her, sitting upon it.

Calmly, his face relaxed in kindness.

"Hello, little girl," he said. "You remember me, don't you?"

Molina wasn't about to risk moving, but she kept large, inquisitive eyes upon him as her mouth slackened, no sound escaping from it.

Maybe there was some hope after all.

"Now… let me tell you what I expect from you," he said, crossing his arms and observing her from up high.

. . . . . . . . .

This time, she had made her decision.

Nothing would hold her back anymore.

Not even Kaiba, because he wasn't there. Deep down, she was relieved about that, because she knew all too well that all of her strength would leave her if she were to confront him directly.

Then again, she didn't have to say goodbye. Which was proving to be far easier. At least, in appearance.

Of course she was fleeing, leaving the ship, because it was sinking.

It was cowardly.

But the courage was lacking once again.

Her suitcase, her companion, was already ready to make another voyage.

Marik. Then Molina. Then Kaiba.

But there was one more rendez-vous left.

The most painful. The most bitter.

One last one.

Which she wasn't about to miss.

She was ready.

. . . . . . . .

Nervous.

More than ever.

Wasn't this the moment of truth?

The most difficult he had ever had to grapple with.

He wasn't ignoring her, obviously; for a short while Naomi had known. He knew that.

But how was she going to react now?

Corroding from the inside out, he found the force to remain calm and remain in complete control of himself. Yet, he had only one wish: to run out of the office to find her, wherever she was.

"Kaiba."

He had answered the phone.

His face showed a deep sadness. And his voice was threatening to give at any instant.

"No… let her," he breathed before hanging up.

_No… don't do this, Naomi. Come back…_

She was gone. Just like he had foreseen. Yet he would have paid anything to be proven wrong.

Hope is vital, right?

So that at the last instant, he believed that maybe she had changed her mind.

Maybe.

If he asked her.

Maybe.

If he prayed enough.

Yes. Against all expectations, Seto Kaiba suddenly found himself capable of prayer.

. . . . . . . . .

More than twenty hours to kick back and relax.

Even at customs, she had felt Kaiba's powerful influence in action; since she had left the mansion by taxi, she had not been able to escape any of his 'sources of information'.

Which was why she was praying so hard that he wouldn't suddenly arrive and try to hold her back.

But he never showed up.

Of course, he hadn't appreciated what she had just done.

Of course, he had to hate her now.

Of course, he had to find her cowardly, no better than a petty thief.

She was seated by the window, and the plane was strangely not filled with too many people.

All the better. She didn't have much to say, anyway.

Except to hear all of their complaints, their incessant loquacity for the entire time…

The engine roared to life.

It was crazy, but right up until the gate closed, she seemed to be hoping full-heartedly to see Kaiba at the far end of the plane, having come to find her.

Maybe, secretly, she _had _been hoping he'd keep her behind.

To see his face again, to taste his lips one last time. To feel the softness of being in his arms, of his body against her own.

Her forehead lightly tapped against the Plexiglas.

Then her fingers began to rub against it.

Her entrails felt like they were being torn apart.

She could no longer keep in the tears as she peered out the window, seeing all of her memories of Kaiba beyond it.

It was crazy how much she suddenly missed him.

Yes. This trip would be very long.

. . . . . . . . .

He had hoped until the final moment.

But the airplane had finally taken off.

Elbows on his desk, Kaiba was happy to be alone, as nobody could see his fingers near his eyes. They were wiping the corners, for all intents and purposes, of the water which attempted in vain to escape from them.

It was true that his heart was broken into a thousand tiny pieces.

It was true that he felt so sick he thought his insides were on fire.

Had he been rejected?

No.

She had never stopped trying.

Kaiba sniffed, loudly.

This wasn't the time to be sappy. Nothing had been lost.

The game had barely begun.

Besides, hadn't he told her that he had enough courage for both of them?

"Sadi, summon Roland," he spoke into the intercom.

"Yes, sir."

He surprised himself by letting his eyes wander over to the bay window, and then over to the crystal dragon.

Even a small smile had been on his lips, for a little while.

"Sir?"

But his reveries were soon snuffed out by the voice of the man who had just entered the room.

"Prepare the KaibaCorp plane. We're leaving for a few days."

Roland didn't bother being curious.

After all, he only needed to know what was strictly necessary.

"May I ask about our destination, sir?"

Calmly, Kaiba took several seconds before responding, his eyes still turned towards the night sky outside, as if he hoped to catch sight of the plane that she must have boarded.

"North America."

* * *

* Ever since reading the third book in the _Girl With the Dragon Tattoo _series by Stieg Larsson, I've loved using 'ramrod-straight'. I'm happy I could use it.

** Dude, just call him. Didn't you learn that a couple chapters ago?

Anyway... things are picking up speed - there are only twenty-seven chapters in all. Let me say that until this point, I have _not _read ahead in this story, having fun discovering things as I translate. However, I admit that I did sneak ahead and read chapter twenty-five before I uploaded this. Now, maybe because it's late at night where I live, or maybe it's because my threshold lowered due to my recent surgery, but I have to say that what I read was one of the most moving things I've ever read in my entire life, in either French _or _English. This is someone who read Moby Dick in sixth grade of their own volition. I can't wait to share it with you.


	25. Chapter 25

This story belongs to Melzart, and the Yu-Gi-Oh! franchise belongs to Kazuki Takahashi.

So I said that this chapter was really moving... well, I guess that's up to personal opinion. Having read through it several times, it isn't as profoundly affecting. The majority of the reason why I was struck was because I had unconsciously made an assumption about the conclusion of the story (which I've now finished) which turned out to be false. Anyway, here's your chapter.

* * *

Chapter 25

_At the Foot of the Great Oak Tree_

The woman she saw in the fucking mirror was like many that she had seen before; however, she no longer counted the number of bruises or wounds. In total, she would sum them up, nothing missing from the medical dictionary except cancer and disease.

Barely twenty years old and so cruelly broken down to the bone, including – most importantly – herself; her side, an ankle, a leg, a fractured arm. Nothing could stop the assaults. That was ignoring, of course, the most terrible time that her head had flew full force into the wall when he threw her there before slamming it back into it over and over. She had received a serious concussion from the incident.

When she thought about it, the only moment of calm that she had known was during her pregnancy, when the hand which hit her so hard had proved to be more merciful; she had received nothing but minor blows in comparison to all of those which left both visible and invisible traces but which never went away, not even with time.

Richard, her partner for two years, was of an almost immeasurable violence. And she could have never found the courage to distance herself from him, principally due to a lack of financial autonomy. But above all, the punishment, the boomerang effect, had proved to be more horrid once she tried running away.

She knew full well that this could not continue, convinced that sooner or later his fingers would again meet her skin. But despite the feeble increase in strength and will in her bosom as she lived consumed in anger and disgust at the way she was treated, she had still never managed to leave him.

But she understood that at least one of the two of them couldn't stay; there was only one thing left to do.

Oh yes, the very bitter scene was playing over for what had to be the thousandth time, now so familiar to her eyes; a torn lip decorated with a small gash whence poured blood; an eye and part of a cheek swollen until they were almost purple. Yes. Just like every time that that terrible hand struck her face, she would sit there astonished for a long time before a little calm – the sound of the door slamming as he left – would finally come to haunt her, if just for a few moments.

Just like every time, a terrible fight was being waged inside of her – she hated herself for being so weak and powerless, totally at the mercy of the insane psychopath incapable of demonstrating the least bit of respect, the least restraint for her or for anyone who approached too closely.

But one month none of those rules had come into play. She had become pregnant, despite all of her silent prayers that it wouldn't happen. But unhappiness does not come alone. It was not the unborn child who was the cause of all of this, who was his partner in crime. It was the time and the spouse who were so bad.

And then whispers of hope reached her ears, a completely demented windstorm, which told her that maybe his behavior would change with her birth. It seemed to be the case for the first few months. He had to have read – heard somewhere, perhaps – that it was the most fragile period of pregnancy, because his habitual behavior after the three months had passed. He was simply too impulsive, too inclined to violence, to be reasonable.

It was just that she didn't know what to do anymore or where she could go. Nobody to turn to for help. Nobody that he didn't already know. There was no place that he couldn't find her.

Completely destroyed, distraught by all of the pain, no door existed between her and the world; she was prisoner to domestic violence, trapped in his savage straitjacket.

But what idea had gone through her mind to make her leave her family cocoon – her mother, the only one still living – to go live with such a sick man before she had hardly entered adulthood?

She hadn't seen it coming. Her inexperience – freshly adult at eighteen – hadn't prepared her for the severity of things. Plus, for the several months that they had been dating, he had always seemed very kind, masking his compulsions. She had honestly thought that he would be her man for life, despite her mother's objections to the matter. But she had disobeyed her, ignored the omens. When one is young, one thinks it'll end up okay; life is trusted, as are its methods. One cannot foresee that there are enemies lurking, waiting to drag one into the shadows to bend and break and prune as if one were a rosebush. Wasn't the future supposed to be built on hope?

This particular afternoon, she tried to regain control of her senses, still completely taken aback by her latest struggle, which had finished several minutes earlier.

However, this time, something had just changed. The only family which remained to her, her mother, had recently passed away due to cancer two weeks ago, and she had just inherited almost a quarter of a million dollars. Of course, Richard was undeniably ogling the fortune as if it were his own. To profit, keep his vice-grip on her. He knew that by force and with threats, sooner or later, he'd get his hands on the money just like he did everything else. It was a sufficiently high monetary amount that she could hope, still always temporarily, to aspire to a better quality of life with her little girl, an infant now thirteen months old and who had, until then, avoided being the subject of his violence.

Only, this particular afternoon, he had not only dared to slap her hard several times but had even thrown her onto the couch as if she were some sort of object. It was when she was trying to protect her that he had once again turned on her and inflicted upon her more grave damage.

It was too much. It was maybe an action which, unconsciously, she feared, and she hoped to put an end to this hellish life.

Now financially secure, she was ready to give it her all; to flee with her child to the other side of the planet so that he would no longer be part of the equation.

And she knew that he wouldn't have the tools to follow her. That was all that mattered.

Although she hadn't warned anyone, she was more determined than ever to act fast.

Before the atrophied face in the mirror, she fought to catch her breath, swearing that this was over. Richard had gone too far. He had to submit to the evidence – he would never change.

But the time to change had arrived. Without him.

After checking to make sure that the little girl was fine, that nothing was broken, she had hurried to reassure her by holding her in her arms and softly rocking her. By the time she had lost count of the kisses she had placed on her forehead, the little girl finally fell asleep, safe in the arms of her mother.

She immediately rushed back over to the mirror where she tried in vain to use washcloths soaked in cold water to sponge up the blood still running out of her busted lip.

But anger and hatred had almost cleaved her in two. An indication that she had finally reached the point of no return.

She was going to leave, her little girl in one arm and a suitcase in the other, as light as possible to not encumber her escape. It was all she needed.

Rapidly, she ran to the bedroom and yanked it open to hurriedly throw inside what was strictly necessary for two before closing it again.

Then she reawakened the little girl a few seconds later to clothe and feed her before departure; they still had time, because Richard would not come back from work for a few hours.

Again, she held the baby against her as if to draw from her all of the courage she needed before walking out through the front door once and for all.

Yes, in several hours, they would be free; there was finally a new life on the horizon, which she hoped would exceed all of her expectations.

She gently took the little girl in one arm, her suitcase in the other hand, then headed towards the door. She didn't have the time to even put the suitcase down to open the door before it opened before her. The terrible man had come back prematurely, standing at his full height upon seeing the suitcase on the ground and realizing what was happening.

"Going somewhere?"

She went to babble a few words, yet was incapable of emitting a single one, already terrified by the reaction that what she had done would engender. And she suddenly began to shake.

_Yes, I'm leaving, you bastard, so get out of my way. Let me leave. I can't do this anymore._

It was without a doubt too much to ask.

Richard did not blow up right away; instead, he ripped the infant out of its mother's arms.

"She stays here. If she leaves, it's with me. And you will never see her again, I promise you," he told her in one of the malicious voices she had ever heard.

She remained frozen where she was. Her entire body was shouting for her little girl. She had to have her to leave this place. But her plan was crumbling before her eyes, because he knew what it was now.

Suddenly, he shoved her to the ground, carelessly tossing the child into an armchair.

"Actually…you're not going anywhere, either!" he shouted as his anger began to finally unveil itself.

She rapidly glanced over at her daughter to assure herself that she was okay before trying to stand again.

But he didn't leave her the time; his foot made contact with her breast and she collapsed again onto the floor as he then slid it over her throat to purposefully stop her from breathing. He even took a certain pleasure in watching her squirm, trying in vain to free herself.

_He's going to kill me…_

Then he pulled his foot back before bending down to grip her solidly by the arm.

"You dirty little bitch. You really think I'm going to let you leave with _my _child?"

He punched her in the nose, and it immediately began pouring with blood. She felt that he might have broken it as the pain that she felt was so gravely intense.

"Why are you doing this? What have I done to deserve this?" she screamed as she began to become blinded by tears and her rage climbed ever higher.

"Shut up!" he roared as he pinned her against the wall.

A new pair of blows rained down upon her face.

Then he joyfully let her once again tumble to the floor, proud of the force he had used on the frail creature.

In no time he had picked the little girl back up in his arms.

"_We're _leaving. And if you see her ever again, you'll be very lucky," he hissed, voice filled with hate.

This time, she stood, despite the pain. She was going to fight, even if she didn't know how. But her heart was telling her to go to help her infant. Because, she was persuaded to think, she was as in much danger as she herself was. Yes. She was going to cope, leave. There wasn't even a choice to make.

With a war cry, she ran in his direction, raising her arms to try to take back the little girl in her hands. But as he amused himself in turning his back to her so that she couldn't reach her, she surprised herself as the inevitable happened – in her anger, she managed to successfully hit him clean in the face, which made him even more outraged, him, who had thought himself passably calm until then.

Had she honestly thought that she could stop him with just one blow? Unlike her, he could.

"Oh, bitch. You shouldn't have dared."

Again, he placed the little girl on the floor and slapped the mother over and over, paying no heed to the shrieks of fear coming from the infant who was surely understanding what was happening now despite her age. At least, she felt that something horrible was going on, and she was crying.

Her mother heard her screams of panic and pain, feeling them almost as if she were emitting them personally. She tried to protect her but he once again got in her way. Blood was running over all of her clothes and even stained Richard's fists as he slowed down, his way of calming himself. He then kicked her, and she fell once more to the ground, more and more numbed by the pain.

Once he believed his job was done, he turned on his heels to pick the little girl back up again.

Trapped in a pool of her own blood, the mother tried to stand, but was incapable of doing so completely, falling back onto the floor.

She grabbed onto his ankle with both of her hands, resolute not to see him leave with her daughter, whom she might never see again.

Again he gave her two good kicks to the face to make her let him go, which proved to be in vain. He lost his balance and began to tip over backwards, falling into a black, wooden piece of furniture in the foyer which he knocked over upon impact. As he fell to the floor, the black wood structure toppled and smashed to pieces on the mother's back, causing her to finally black out.

It was much more than she could possibly endure, already too weakened by the beating she had already received. Her body could do no more. But in her soul, she remembered just one thing before fainting: her little girl.

. . . . . . . . .

"You're alright. You're in good hands," the feminine voice kept saying as she struggled to open her eyes.

She found herself in a hospital room, which she could affirm with no doubt in her mind because it wasn't her first visit – or her first time waking up – inside of one.

Frenetically, she looked around the room for a strongly needed presence. A presence she could not find.

"Calm down," the nurse was repeating. "Relax… it will be alright…"

But it sounded like she was choking back a sob.

Despite her kind words, her patient was quite rebellious as her hand waved around, trying to find something which she could use as a stabilizer as she tried to sit up.

"I want to see my daughter… where is she?"

Quite compassionately, the nurse pressed her to lay back down.

"Later… you have to rest for a while, understand?"

The young patient, crushed in her own suffering and the effort of fighting her own body as it seemed to be becoming heavier and heavier, finally fell back into her sheets.

The door was closed but she could hear footsteps and carts darting about in the hallway outside. That was finally what woke her up.

_My daughter…_

The thought that hadn't left her, even in her deepest sleep, kept forcing itself to the front of her mind. She was dying with worry and remorse was tearing apart her heart; had he fled with her? Had he just succeeded in causing her even more harm than he had ever previously done?

But she remembered what happened before she completely lost consciousness. Once again, she had proved totally incapable of protecting her. Worse, she hadn't even managed to deliver her own child out of the arms of a tyrant.

She managed to stand, still in much pain, and then sit back down before the door finally opened to reveal the doctor in charge of her recovery.

"Hi," he said softly as she thought he always had to when he came to inspect her wounds.

Her entire body hurt her, from head to toe.

"You were really lucky. You were just a couple of inches away from being paralyzed for life," he said as if thinking this would reassure her.

He was talking about the gash she had sustained when the piece of furniture fell on top of her.

"But it's fine… all that will be there once it heals is a tiny scar, barely visible. Don't worry," he said.

But that was the least of her worries. She was still alive and every part of her body, each one as worn as every other, united to remind her of something.

"Doctor…" she murmured, interrupting him before he could continue with his medical spiel. "All I want… is to see my daughter, alright?"

The features on the doctor's face darkened, as if bothered by the question.

"Oh!" she said. "He left with her and you don't know where they are? Is that right?"

The man noticed the panic that washed over the patient's face. Even the tone of her voice betrayed her.

He left himself a moment of silence before very hesitantly responding.

"Er… yes, we found them."

He again let his thoughts drag out.

He then sighed heavily.

"Actually, your husband did in fact leave with your child…but…"

_But what?_

He chose to clear his throat, disgusted by the news that he had been cornered into unveiling.

"…there was a car accident…"

She flinched, profoundly affected by his every word.

"What? When?"

_Answer me! Tell me what happened!_

"…three days ago. You slept a long time… you had to recuperate."

"Stop!" she screamed, the shock now dangerously mixing into the anguish.

He sputtered slightly.

"I'm sorry…" he breathed, really quite sympathetically. "The little girl… didn't survive. I'm so sorry… we couldn't do anything to save her."

. . . . . . . . .

It was cold.

A thick carpet of snow covered the frozen earth, stretching up to the trees whose naked branches seemed heavily petrified in ice.

From a long distance away, Kaiba had followed Naomi, who had just stopped at the foot of a giant oak tree.

He knew it: there resided all of her weakness, her existential scourge, the demon; just in the shadow of the giant tree was the small, fragile tombstone of a little girl who was laid to rest there.

Her daughter.

Naomi shivered, visibly unsure of whether she should stay or keep on the move.

Hidden behind a tree a little ways away, Kaiba missed none of the moving reunion. His heart was caught in an invisible clamp, tortured by events which never should have normally affected him. But yet… he was suffering. He was suffering so much, as if his heart was the same as Naomi's, who had let herself fallen to her knees before the snowed-over stone.

If only he had been there. None of this would have ever happened. He would have protected her. He would have protected _them._ At least he never would have felt this gangrene take over his heart, a mixture of helplessness and guilt.

Just like every time she suffered, hiding the worst of her humiliation, the most destructive secrets of her existence – he hadn't been there.

Except today, on the first of February.

She wiped away the snow with the back of her hand, her eyes fixed on the unmoving stone. More tenderly than ever, her lips came to press against the stone, as if it were the forehead of a young child.

"I'm sorry… for not having been there… for not having been strong… not even for you… especially not for you," she murmured.

There, in the middle of nowhere, in this immense white Sahara, an ocean of tears began to pour out of her eyes, covering Naomi's face as her arms tightened around the tombstone as if hugging some small, invisible body.

Between the litanies and the silence, the screams and wails brutally punched holes in the ears – and the soul – of Seto Kaiba, whose clenched fists were shaking. And that compared nothing to the pain tearing apart his insides, from his stomach to his throat.

He was supposed to be a strong and powerful man. But his empire only extended over the realm of the living.

He remained motionless, his eyes on the ground with his head bowed, cruelly afflicted by Naomi's utter devastation.

He could do nothing. Absolutely nothing.

Naomi's cries of fury redoubled and were soon accompanied by violent blows as she punched the icy ground with her fists, despite the invincible power of her immobile adversary.

She was dumping there all of the years of bitterness and pain kept inside as she erred the world like a phantom.

Kaiba shivered under the torture of being unable to hold her, even help her in her fight. Together, they might have been able to do something.

_Go on._

_ No! I can't. I have no right._

_ She would never forgive me._

Again, his ears almost deformed by those unbearable cries, Kaiba forced himself to not turn away.

She had slowed her frantic pace, as if her opponent had finally won and had taken all of her strength. Wiped out, she had stretched out completely on the ground, overtop of the burial site, one arm wiping away the snow as if she were still trying to hold the child in her arms.

But no sound came from her lips any longer.

Kaiba was breathing heavily, burned by the acidic tears sparkling in his blue eyes, as if all of the glaciers which touched his internal sky were in the process of melting.

_She needs you._

He fought fiercely against the pressing urge to race towards her, although one part of him decided to let her mourn alone.

He was worried that she would get a cold, that she would catch some deadly illness.

What if that _was _what she wanted?

Kaiba bristled with determination.

_I won't let her do that. I won't let her._

. . . . . . . . .

_I'm so tired of being here_

_Suppressed by all my childish fears_

_But if you have to leave_

_I wish that you would just leave_

'_Cause your presence still lingers here_

_And it won't leave me alone_

_These wounds won't seem to heal_

_This pain is just to real_

_There's just too much that time cannot erase_

_When you cried, I'd wipe away your tears_

_When you'd scream, I'd fight away all of your fears_

_And I've held your hand through all of these years_

_But you still have all of me_

_You used to captivate me_

_By your resonating light_

_Now I'm bound by the life you left behind_

_Your face – it haunts my once pleasant dreams,_

_Your voice - it chased away all the sanity in me_

_These wounds won't seem to heal,_

_This pain is just too real,_

_There's just too much that time cannot erase…_

. . . . . . . . .

Time was passing by cruelly slowly; Naomi hadn't moved for many interminable minutes. Fifteen, thirty maybe, still laying upon the white carpet. The warmth of her body had long ago melted her silhouette into the snow. She wasn't even shivering anymore, caught deep in the worst of her nightmarish memories.

She had felt frozen for a while.

But she no longer felt anything anymore. And the silence which had fallen over the cemetery suddenly flooded inside of her, calming her tormented spirit for what seemed like the first time in an eternity. And she no longer moved, totally incapable of budging any part of her body. On her face the frozen tears had dug red canals.

How much time had she been here?

Hours? Days?

Years?

Running away, catching up?

_Alexandra… Seto._

It was odd how he hadn't left her mind, either.

He had been the only real happiness that she had felt in her miserable existence. And it had been so short.

She had needed to flee him, because she was sure she didn't deserve him.

Little mattered now.

She wallowed in the complete numbness of body and mind.

She didn't hear Kaiba walk up behind her, hesitantly.

Without a word, he crouched down carefully, putting his arm around her to allow her to stand, so delicately it was as if he was afraid she would turn to dust if he deign touch her.

In an almost inaudible voice, and without even looking at him, she whispered, very quietly, with a certain delight:

"… Se…to…?"

Was she already so far beyond the edge that dreams were beginning to wrap her in their comforting coat?

Would it be the last thing she would see before departing this world?

"Yes," he breathed, concernedly in the process of holding her softly to him.

"What the – "

_I don't want to wake up…_

But Naomi's voice suddenly gave, completely frozen and too much in a state of shock to tell apart reality from fantasy. She began to shiver furiously upon contact with Seto, whose body began to warm hers.

He rubbed her arms and her back with his one hand, taking care to keep her held to him with the other.

But he kept silent, conscious that it was the time to respect those in eternal slumber.

Roland rushed rapidly towards them with thermal blankets, which he hurriedly threw around Naomi's shoulders.

But it was Kaiba who took her into his arms as he brought her back to the car.

Still largely silent, she shivered the entire way towards to a splendid chalet at the foot of a mountain, her head leaning on Seto's shoulder, who, cursing both gods and men alike, stared out of the window.

Kaiba had understood that her mind had still to reintegrate with her body, and that she was still emerging out of her lethargy.

So he lifted her in his arms to take her inside the cottage, where he took off her soggy clothes and wrapped her in several large blankets, keeping his eye on her to verify her physical state; her eyes were puffy and red from the combination of tears and cold.

But she did not return any of his worried glances; she remained in an immutable silence, eternally mournful.

However he didn't doubt that this was just the calm before the storm. He was going to have to answer for his inopportune presence and the knowledge he had long quite indiscriminately possessed; in following her, he had opened himself up to her anger. But he chose to be honest. He had as well made the choice to keep her back once again, terrified and more aware than ever that she never would have been able to deal with this alone.

He had followed her, scared to lose her, even though he was to face the repercussions. But he wouldn't back down without a fight.

For hours Naomi obstinately stayed silent, her eyes nailed to the roaring fire before her, trying to sort through her incoherent thoughts.

"You…"

Kaiba's body froze where he stood, facing the window in whose reflection he was watching her.

_It's starting. Be brave, Kaiba, _he said to himself, knowing in advance which words would come out of Naomi's mouth.

"…followed…me?"

Kaiba closed his eyes, then reopened them, sighing slightly to give himself countenance.

"Yes."

Naomi's voice quavered lightly.

"You dared…"

In her heart of hearts, she felt betrayed.

Kaiba swallowed, hard, knowing the worst was yet to come.

"And… you knew?" she asked, stopping herself from exploding with anger.

Again his eyes closed.

"Yes," he admitted honestly.

Naomi stopped.

"…for how long?"

He sighed again loudly.

"…the beginning," he admitted, his stomach knotted with incertitude.

Her anger and bitterness began to tear at her, and Naomi had to fight to hold back a new wave of tears which were beginning to come to her eyes.

"That's not true," she said.

Kaiba turned around to face her, wondering how he wasn't rushing towards her.

"You lied to me. You betrayed me…"

"NO!" he yelled, voice firm.

She suddenly shot upwards, whipping around to show him her backside as he raced towards her to attempt to hold her in his arms.

"Nobody escapes Seto Kaiba, right? NOBODY!" she cried, a marked pain in her voice. And she was shaking in rage and disappointment.

"You think you have every right… you had every right except THIS ONE!" she screamed at him again, her pardon now nigh impossible to acquire.

"It's not what I – " he began to defend himself.

"SHUT UP!" she shrieked, cutting him off. "I HATE YOU!"

Kaiba's body tensed sharply, as if the words were a gunshot blow.

_Anything but that… try to understand…_

He went to place his hand on her shoulder but she backed away in fury.

"DON'T FUCKING TOUCH ME!" she ordered him as she dodged.

Kaiba was shaking now, as if his body were about to tumble apart into pieces onto the floor.

_I deserve this, I know… I know it hurt you…_

"Listen to me!" he implored her.

"NO!"

"I swear I would have never wanted to know," he admitted to her.

"NO! YOU WANTED TO! Because you have to know everything! No matter what! And once you have what you want the rest doesn't matter!" she yelled, finally revealing her tears.

"STOP! That's not true!" he protested loudly.

She sighed, visibly beyond annoyed.

"You only think about yourself."

Her every word was like being stabbed in the heart. It was like she trying to kill him, and she had no qualms in doing so.

"That's true. I only thought about myself…" he admitted timidly.

"…until I met you…"

A very short silence came between them, but to the nervous Kaiba, it took an eternity.

"I don't want to hear any more!" she snapped after a pause.

"Wait – "

"Leave me alone!"

This time she didn't leave him any time to respond as she flew into one of the bedrooms and slammed the door behind her.

Kaiba stood, immobile, in the middle of the living room for a long time, completely thunderstruck.

Only Naomi's voice was resonating in his head.

_I hate you_

_ I hate you_

. . . . . . . . .

She didn't sleep that night. Not any more than Seto, who was curled up on the couch, too stunned to know how to react, searching in vain for a way to pick up the thousands of invisible shards he knew to be littering the room.

He didn't even dare to raise his head when the bedroom door opened and Naomi came to sit lightly on the coffee table in front of him. She couldn't dare look at him, either.

As if they had become complete strangers, a feeling of defeat swept through Kaiba's soul, now expecting the worst.

_I lost. She wants nothing of me anymore…_

"I… I don't think you came all this way just to see me suffer…"

_Let me finish!_

As if he had heard her, Kaiba closed his mouth before he could pronounce a single syllable.

"I also don't believe that what you must have learned was too pleasant. And I don't know why you're still here…"

For the first time since last night, Kaiba's body seemed to uncoil.

"I know you weren't thinking about yourself… you wouldn't be here if you were…"

She paused, too choked up, too exhausted.

"But that hurt me, Seto. It hurt me a lot. Even if it's not what you meant to do…"

_She knows._

Kaiba found that a slight relief, but he kept listening without a word.

"I was in a state of shock… I still am, I think…"

He tenderly tried to take her hand.

To his immense pleasure, he didn't try to avoid his touch.

She even seemed to be ashamed.

"…and…I realize now… that I was very selfish, also."

This time, she dared to look at him.

"I also was only thinking about myself. I made you suffer and I didn't mean to… I didn't want to tell you anything, I wanted to keep you away from all of this. I could only think about escaping… you see? Everything catches up to me… even you."

_No matter where I go, what I do… I see your face…_

The tone of her voice indicated that she was begging.

"Please, Seto… please… let me go."

Kaiba flinched, as if punched in the stomach.

"What?"

"I would be even more selfish if I were to stay."

He tried to guess what she was thinking.

"I'm not… I can't give you any children, Seto. I'm not strong enough… and I have no right to deprive you of them. It would be an injustice."

She was insistent again.

"So I'm begging you. Let me go."

Kaiba remained speechless, simultaneously disappointed and relieved.

"Naomi," he managed to breathe as he pulled her towards him.

How could she think that he only wanted her for the sole purpose of making a family?

"I want you to be happy."

Kaiba infinitely welcomed Naomi's fall into his arms, knowing that she was finally abandoning herself to him.

"I know… I know…" he murmured softly in her ear.

But Naomi began to cry again, her fists lightly beating against Kaiba's chest.

"She was so beautiful… so little, Seto… why her and not me? Tell me!"

_I'm here, Naomi…_

He felt so devastated by pain he thought he might be sick.

His embrace tightened around her.

_… if you want to talk about it, I'm here, even if it breaks my heart._

_ I will suffer with you._

Kaiba's blood was pulsing in his veins. He was beginning to think violently.

_The bastard… I'll kill him, too, Naomi… if I meet him, I'll kill him._

Kaiba fought harshly to keep up his appearance of being strong, despite the desire to kill which rippled through him and forced him to battle to keep himself calm and prove a comfort to her despite the rage and disgust which would no longer leave him. Even his body shook.

Reflexively Naomi firmly held herself in his arms, as if she had become again the young, fragile, innocent child she was had been.

"…and I couldn't do anything…"

Her voice was broken, choppy.

"Seto….I… I couldn't even hold her in my arms… not even one last time…"

_Like…Molina?_

Kaiba sat there, jaw clenched, horrified, fighting to keep his head clear. Even if he had known about her past in broad sketches, and despite what he had imagined, nothing could compare to the truth.

Naomi was gripping onto him, searching for protection.

But he had to admit that he was powerless once again to soothe her pain.

She kept crying for a long while, until falling out of fatigue, her strength now fully sapped away.

Oh, how he had feared this first day of February.

Kaiba affectionately took her in his arms and lifted her to a bed, where he took off her clothes and covered her back under the blankets.

He fed the fire with several more logs then himself slid beneath the covers, allowing himself to take in the sight of the creature he felt so strongly for.

_No. Nobody will ever harm you ever again._

Instinctively, Naomi, partially asleep, went to move closer to him, putting her head on his torso as he wrapped her in his arms, more protective than ever.

_Children? _

What an idea! He hadn't thought of it before.

But…

_I would love to have tons… with you…_

It was too true that that was out of the question.

That was without a shadow of a doubt Naomi's greatest source of suffering. Why else would she have rejected so much, preferring to keep her distance from him? He wasn't going to pretend otherwise.

No happiness would compare to that he would feel if this woman were to give birth to his children one day.

Then again, no happiness could compare to that he felt just to know that this woman was close by.

If he had to spend a lifetime with her without his offspring growing up to sprinkle themselves over the four corners of the globe, so be it. He would accept that. Anything so that she would stay. Anything for her to love him a little more everyday for the man he truly was. Anything to wake up in the morning holding her in his arms.

As for the rest, maybe it was time for him to plead his case with her. Maybe the time had come to heal all wounds, the very same ones he was normally helpless to counteract.

Yes. As he thought back upon it, maybe there was still a little bit of hope.

Wasn't that all there was left?

_I would lie if I denied fearing that I would lose you… you're there for me… and that's all that matters._

His arms wrapped even more lovingly about her warm, soft body.

Yes . Seto Kaiba was in love, for the first – and last – time in his life.

Crazily in love.

He had known for a long time now.

But only today did he dare to admit it to himself.

It was upon this confession that a real smile lit up his face and his eyes closed, taken by surprise.

It was a quiet movement which awoke him several hours later; he hadn't moved a muscle until Naomi raised her head to look at him.

How handsome he was.

Hadn't he done this all for her?

He didn't open his eyes right away. But she knew very well that he was no longer asleep.

She softly placed her hand on his chest and began to make a caressing, sweeping motion.

"You don't want to let me go?" she murmured again.

But Kaiba did not respond, persuaded that she still hadn't finished digging to the very bottom of his thoughts.

"Even with everything you know… what's still ahead…" she whispered, incapable of resigning themselves to a common fate.

"No," he breathed emotionlessly.

_I'm scared of hurting you, Seto… of losing you, too…_

Kaiba opened his eyes, and they were brimming with unbridled compassion.

But Naomi didn't look at them, instead laying her head back down on his body.

"I have something else to admit," she whispered, humility coating the sound of her voice.

But he didn't move, attentively waiting.

"Between the two of us…" she breathed, turning to face him, eyes watering, "…you're the stronger one."

Normally the confession would have filled Kaiba with happiness, having finally superseded his adversary. After all, it had always been a portion of his pride.

Only his heart was filled more with admiration than with pride.

He tenderly flipped her over, finding himself on top of her, and their noses touched.

"No," he muttered sincerely as he shook his head. "I don't think so, no."

_I'm so proud of you…_

She had given way before him, and in such little time.

Under differing circumstances, he might have actually told her that.

"I don't think so," he insisted, kissing her lips.

Her beautiful dark eyes were misted over, and appeared to be begging him.

_Seto… I need you._

_I _Like she was speaking to him out loud – she was sure than he could hear her.

_Make love to me… hold me tight against you…_

Kaiba's lips grew more feverish on her own.

"Yes…" he said, practically inaudible.

_Everything you want…_

"Mokuba!" she suddenly yelped, bounding upwards in the bed and almost knocking him over, shaking the man who had been swimming in his passions.

"What?"

_Mokuba?_

"Where….? Seto, you didn't leave him alone back in Japan, did you?"

Kaiba laughed softly.

"Of course not."

How could he have forgotten his brother?

"He's nearby, in a neighboring chalet," he breathed. "Really not that far…"

Naomi sighed in relief.

But Kaiba held her to him, one arm around her waist.

"Come here… I wasn't through with you…" he said in a languorous growl.

"Again?" she murmured, slightly amused.

"Oh yes… again… and again… and again…" he sighed between kisses.

Since their bodies first touched, Kaiba took pleasure in every second of their delicious bodily 'exchanges'.

But two years before he would have been horrified.

He remembered how pathetic it had been to him – if not simply degrading – to do what he had believed to be the disgusting, despicable act of laying with another woman. He had managed it, not without contempt and a dash of hatred. And he had even rejected that first girl without deigning look back, as if she were a street whore. Just as he did with the two or three which followed. Because he had been incapable of the slightest feeling except a belief in the exigency of the act for the sole purpose of procreation. It was this which had pushed him to let go the idea of being part of a 'couple'.

But since Naomi, and that infamous first time, everything had changed in his perspective. Because he very deeply respected her after what he had learned. She was different, in his mind.

Of course, he wasn't insensitive to her grief, nor to her beauty, nor to her vulnerability.

Since then, the game had become a vital need, his desire never ceasing to grow each time it blossomed throughout his body as he would take hold of her flesh.

Yes, he would always come back for more.

Obsessed?

That's exactly what he was.

Obsessed with _her_.

* * *

* _My Immortal_, Evanescence.

Alright, another comment. I like the next chapter, too. Well... the first half. I am warning you now: _the second half of chapter twenty-six is an explicit sex scene. _And not necessarily a lovey-dovey one. You know how I normally divide chapter sections with nine dots? I'm planning on using nine tildes as a warning to those who don't want to get into that sort of thing. Those people should stop reading the chapter there, pretty much. I'll say this again in a pre-chapter note next time, but I wanted to get this out there.


	26. Chapter 26

This story is property of Melzart, and the Yu-Gi-Oh! franchise belongs to Kazuki Takahashi.

This chapter has explicit sexual content. For those of you who ignored the M rating in this story when navigating here, the section is marked off by nine tildes (~) instead of the nine dots I normally have been using to denote different sections.

* * *

Chapter 26

_First Night_

_ He still had no idea why he accepted the idea of spending an evening with Yugi and his friends. After all, it was _his _birthday._

_ That night they wanted to celebrate twenty years the way they wanted to, all amicably, at least through Kaiba's lens who still didn't see anything but a pure flight of fancy in the ideal; which still seemed to be unique to him._

_ Or, maybe, yes, he knew very well why he had finally agreed: again, as always, to make his little brother, Mokuba happy. It was innate; he couldn't refuse him anything. And as he insisted so much, Kaiba had had no other choice other than submission._

_ He had thus met up with them at a popular Domino City club simply known as Paradise. But it had taken nearly all of his strength to drag himself there, even at the last minute. Mokuba had had the pretext that he was too busy with his work and that it was high time he begin to think about something else, like having fun, at least for once in his life. Profit from his youth before being entirely crushed by the weight of his responsibilities that his company brought him. And deep down, maybe, too, Mokuba was hoping that he'd finally snuff out a girlfriend, a milestone he had yet to reach. He would taunt him, saying everyone had one already and that it was a fundamental human need, unlike running a company. Sooner or later, even he, Kaiba, wouldn't escape it._

_ Kaiba wasn't blind as a bat and could sense the dazzled looks of the young women – and the mature women – as he brushed past. Their eyes undressed him with impunity, hoping that they would be the one who would gain whatever little attention he seemed to have._

_ The truth was, he was a very seductive man. He was aware of this. He was appealing even at a glance. Plus he was rich, which certainly didn't spoil the desire of those already wanting him._

_ Despite all of these features, which proved more often than not to be exasperating, he had never shown any interest in any of these silent invitations or boring, useless fairy tales._

_ It was again his little brother who had intervened, teasing him that one day or another a beautiful and charming princess would cross paths with him and that, even if he acted with disgust, at that moment, a real Madame Kaiba would just turn her nose up at him. Which wasn't a completely senseless suggestion._

_ Moreover, he had added with the effect of unsettling Kaiba, he'd end up also wanting to assure his own progenitor. _

_ This is what had been raising the red flag inside of him for quite some time now and had also awoken a certain curiosity – a legitimate curiosity – in his mind._

_ The future was too far away for the serious and impassive young man. However, Mokuba had struck a nerve._

_ It was true that one day, he thought, it would be that he would be tempted to have children. At least one._

_ Yes, Madame Kaiba would give him a son, maybe two. Worthy of their name and of their heritage. They'd be cumbersome, but they would be just as strong and proud as their distinguished father. He even recalled seriously thinking that he would not have a daughter; he simply couldn't imagine consoling a crying little girl constantly latching onto his leg and agitating him over absolutely everything. That's with the knowledge that younger women tend to be more sensible._

_ No, Kaiba definitely couldn't see himself having a girl. But sons – that was a reality which seemed most promising to him and more in line with his aspirations._

_ What about Madame Kaiba?_

_ What would he look for in the mother of his child?_

_ Young and beautiful, no doubt. Blonde or brunette. Large or small. Sweet, or with an arrogance rivaling his own. Self-indulgent or devoted… in the end, it was of no importance._

_ The truth was that he had no damn idea. Little mattered to him when he thought about it. The goal was, quite selfishly, to just have children._

_ Of course she had to be pleasant; he would not tolerate some sort of shrew. But he did not believe either that the most pleasant companion would be frail and innocent. It would get so tiresome as time wore on._

_ He had no real idea what to look for, really._

_ But the fact of the matter was that he definitely wasn't looking to find and accept anyone tonight._

_ Really, all of that was so far away._

_ For some time another thought had been floating around in his head, carving itself a nice little path. It was becoming evident that Mokuba was right and he'd have to arrange to have offspring someday or another. But what was most troubling at the moment was the embarrassing question: if he had never had sex, how would he explain himself to the woman who would become Madame Kaiba? Especially if he didn't find her within the next ten years or so. It was an obscure, oh-so-delicate point to raise._

_ Worst of all was the shame on his mind of being so completely ignorant. Every man has his pride. And he couldn't find himself before her without any prior experience. The great Seto Kaiba, a virgin at thirty?_

_ That went without saying. Even if it was conceivable as well as very likely. At least for him. For nobody other than him._

_ Didn't he have a reputation to uphold?_

_ Everything up until then proved it. Even his own body._

_ He felt no need or desire for anyone, any simple curiosity for people or for things. Anything that interested him interested him professionally. Nothing else. He was a robot, first and foremost. The definition of workaholic._

_ "Yo, Kaiba!" Joey said perhaps too loudly as he swung his arm around his neck and whirled him around. "You see that chick over there… she's smokin', doncha think?"_

_ Joey had had a little bit too much and reeked of alcohol, which irritated Kaiba. But what pushed his buttons most was the non-respectful manner in which he had just burst his personal bubble. As far back as he could remember, Kaiba couldn't recall ever having raised other pigs in the same pigsty as himself._

_ Besides, what did that mean? Was Joey plotting with Mokuba? What was with all the familiarity?_

_ "It's official, mutt, I'm never going to get used to the way you smell," he responded, pushing Joey away with little effort._

_ He didn't need to see him lurch about any longer._

_ Joey, put off, didn't bother working himself up over it. He was used to many things coming from Kaiba. Besides, wasn't it his birthday? Everything should be calm, relaxed. At least _he_ would kindly obey that rule. _

_ Kaiba didn't even bother looking at the girl Joey pointed out. She was not attractive to his eyes. In reality, nobody was. Except his little brother._

_ "Dude… you really gotta get out more… she's eye candy!" he titillated further, apparently not concerned about anything but partying._

_ "Let me remind you that I, unlike you, Wheeler, am rich and popular. It's obvious that every woman in the world, even your type, take note of me," Kaiba responded arrogantly._

Poor fool…

_"Yeah, maybe, man… but I'm a pro…" Joey retorted, visibly certain of his allegation as if he believed he had just believed the CEO's coup de grace._

Grr… why is he getting into this…

_ "You're always this idiotic, Wheeler. And to think that it doesn't matter whether you've had a drink or not," Kaiba spat back with even more spite on his lips, as if he were about to vomit his disgust all over him._

_ "Oh yeah?" began Joey again, swaying slightly. "Let me remind _you _that you might be a little rich boy and a good duelist…"_

_"So you admit it," Kaiba silenced him suddenly, not yet impressed with his interlocutor._

_ "Yeah, yeah," Joey said. "But when it comes to chicks, _you _are the amateur, dude. A total noob."_

_ Of course Kaiba wasn't about to debase himself and stoop down to his level in anger._

_ So he sighed, visibly frustrated by the path the conversation had taken._

_ "Poor Wheeler. And just what exactly do you think you know about women that I don't?"_

_ This time, it was Joey's turn to beam triumphantly. He was of the opinion that the CEO had never had the occasion – more like the will – to approach a single girl who didn't have some sort of benefit for him somewhere along the line._

_ The young blond let himself topple directly into a chair, his elbows ramming into the table same time, demonstrating that he was drunk beyond any doubt – he almost fell. But he was smiling knowingly, and was taking great pleasure in it._

_ "Kay, Kaiba… you asked for it!"_

_ Kaiba felt his body stiffen at the provocative grin. He had crossed his arms, raised his head haughtily to show him that he certainly wouldn't reveal to him his most intimate secrets. Even if they were absent from his vocabulary, like the actions were. But didn't he have his pride to uphold?_

_ "So…Kaiba… first tell me what YOU know 'bout…women… besides… you've had a girlfriend, right?"_

_ If his name hadn't been Seto Kaiba, he would have blushed before such indiscretion. But the groan that ran through his mind was deaf as well as silent._

_ "May I ask why the question is any of your business?" he hissed between his clenched teeth as if ready to bite back at any remark back to him._

_ But Joey stopped himself from bursting out laughing, contenting himself with a mocking sigh._

_ "I see," he said._

_ Kaiba was losing his patience with this stupid and useless question and answer game._

_ "You see. Are you a soothsayer now?" he snapped again._

_ Joey stopped his imbecilic smile, so suddenly that Kaiba wondered if he hadn't just all of a sudden snapped back into sobriety._

_ "Have you done it? How was it?" he dared to ask him._

_ Kaiba felt deeply stung by the subject. His left eyebrow shot up, denoting a major sense of annoyance._

_ "Have I done what?" he asked calmly, as if nothing bothered him, as if nothing touched him._

_ "Well… with a girl, duh! You slept with one yet?" Joey said, now going ahead with a strategy of pure frankness._

_ He seemed to want to wheedle an anecdote out of him. But Kaiba wasn't quite on the same boat._

_ "Gah! Wheeler!" he sighed, exasperated._

_ But he couldn't help but return the questions to his interlocutor, hoping to knock him off-balance._

_ "_With _one? What is that supposed to mean, Wheeler? I hope you're not saying you have your eye on me. Because if you do, I'm entirely uninterested."_

_ Joey guffawed, now convinced that Kaiba was purposefully evading his questions._

_ "You crazy, dude? Even if we were the only two guys on the planet after some big-ass flood… I'd rather make out with a goat before I… well, let's say it ain't your company that turns me off. Nothin' personal."_

_ "Hah!" Kaiba responded, his tone growing ever more sarcastic. "Bestiality! Is that your thing now, Wheeler?"_

_ He felt it; Joey was about to crack, break under his own anger. And deep inside, he would have absolutely loved to start a fight with him. Moreover, there was a chance he could now switch the topic of conversation._

This is all so dumb… I could just get up and leave, _Kaiba thought to himself._

_ "Hey, hey, not cool, man," Joey babbled as he tried to stand – which he found to be difficult given his state of mind – and to threaten Kaiba with a punch, whose Kaiba wasn't fooling anyone, he was certain._

_ "So, you dodgin' the question," he observed when he looked at him. "Tell me why you havin' so much trouble. You don't like 'em? Or maybe I should be worried some of your hidden… fetishes…"_

_ Kaiba re-donned a partially grave air. His plan hadn't worked and he found himself back where he started. Worse. This imbecile was in the middle of suggesting that he could secretly crave masculine company. He couldn't shut himself up without defending himself, although he certainly was under no such obligation. The practically irresistible desire to slap him upside the head to knock him back to his senses was quite appealing to him now. If he were a coward, he would have._

_ Apparently Wheeler seemed far more intelligent than he gave him credit for._

_ "Nah… but it's possible… sometimes a guy can like other things besides – "_

_ This time, the red-faced Kaiba sliced him off._

_ "Enough, Wheeler. I believe you've had enough to drink tonight."_

_ "Hey, take it easy, Kaiba. I ain't one of your employees. So if I wanna take a drink, I drink. 'Kay?"_

_ Kaiba sighed heavily._

_ "You can clear the bar's entire stock if it'll shut you up, I have nothing against that," he said testily. "Besides, why don't you go find one of your little friends? Better yet… go find yourself a goat," he continued as his eyes meandered over to the dance floor where Tea was busting her moves and Yugi was awkwardly trying to keep up._

_ "But it's your birthday, man, I ain't gonna leave you hangin'…"_

_ "I am quite comfortable without your company, Wheeler," Kaiba said dryly._

_ "Well, in that case… let me go get you a girl… you'll definitely like her more than me…"_

_ Before Kaiba even had time to respond Joey made a hand signal towards a beautiful young girl that told her to approach them. It was one of those that hadn't stopped staring at the CEO for a long while now. The same one he ignored earlier._

_ She was cute, that much was for certain. Almond-shaped eyes and black hair indicated that she was a native of Japan. However Kaiba found her makeup to be slightly too thick._

_ "Wheeler…" Kaiba growled as the young woman came nearer._

_ He was sick of all of the silent advances._

_ "What's your name?" Joey asked as he stood to leave her his place._

_ "Soraya…" she responded in a bit of a fearful smile to Kaiba, who was not paying any attention._

_ "Good…Soraya, nice to meet ya," Joey said as he pointed at Kaiba. "It's my friend's birthday here, wanna spend some time with 'im?"_

_ "Wheeler…" Kaiba hissed more determinedly, very much annoyed._

_ Under what pretenses was he getting into his private life?_

_ "Of course," the young woman breathed, sitting down before Kaiba, who she was still ogling. He visibly and unquestioningly was attractive to her. Which didn't surprise Kaiba._

_ "Well!" said Joey, taking a step off to the side. "I'll let you guys mingle…later, Kaiba!"_

_ If he didn't sense all of his rage, it was uniquely due to the fact he must be too damn drunk to feel anything at all. Yet of course, Kaiba was internally cussing him out._

_ He had never appreciated any sort of intrusion into his private life on anybody's part. And now he found himself in this quite uncomfortable situation._

_ Of course he was master of every situation and could allow himself to be at least 'unpleasant', even around women. If he wanted to, all he needed to do was get up and leave the place. He owed nothing to anyone. Especially to some swooning nobody._

_ Obviously this woman couldn't hold a candle to the future Madame Kaiba. She seemed insipid and uninteresting, although she wasn't quite ugly. She even could be nice, and gentle._

_ But those were Mokuba's words, who, like normal, was stopping him from taking things too far._

_ His curiosity, too, perhaps._

_ Yes. All things considered, he might try to test the waters, try to discover what could motivate a third-rate person to want to approach or get to know him. Of course, he knew the majority of her future response. But on the inside, he was swimming in complete ignorance._

_ She sat there for a moment, strongly intimidated by his visual examination._

_ Partially decided, Kaiba sighed in disappointment and now glared at her thin frame in austerity._

_ "Do you only come to this kind of place to have fun, or are you looking for something in particular?"_

_ The least she could say was that this guy was direct._

_ Of course, she, like everyone else in the world, had heard plenty of stories concerning the person in charge of the Kaiba Corporation, whom she had recognized at a glance. She had also heard that he didn't take verbal detours when talking to others and he always bristled with a certain authority. But she couldn't lie by saying many people didn't admire him – principally, the feminine populace was completely smitten with the seductive young man._

_ But she understood better now why everyone feared approaching him._

_ "Er…that depends…" she responded, entirely uncertain of the right attitude to adopt._

_ "I respect frankness. Respond without fear. I am not judging you, I am just asking you a simple question."_

Ha…. is she even intelligent enough to answer?

_His intellectual superiority always would never leave him. Kaiba had long understood that was one of the more fundamental differences between him and the most common of mortals. But he didn't push the insult into a complete un-piecing of the young girl before him. It wasn't like she deserved his respect. It was more that he could hardly stand the sight of people in tears. As if something had finally carved its way to his sensible side and make him feel something distasteful for having done wrong._

_ It was what left of his conscience._

_ "That depends, sir…" she repeated._

Sir? At least she knows who I am. Now, if she would just tell what I'd like to know: at least if she doubts… or I could try to sniff out her true intentions… it's not important…but…

_Suddenly Kaiba didn't want to be famous. Just to see the truth from a different standpoint. When he thought about it, she was already impressed enough by his name and the prestige attached to it. Nothing frank about that, really. At least he would be free of his thoughts and actions._

_ Besides, he himself barely knew what he wanted to take from this conversation._

_ "Depends on what?"_

On what she thinks I want to hear?... Grr…this is all useless. I'd be farther along by now, I expect…

_Yet to his surprise, she gave a complete response._

_ "…on what I want the night I go out. Sometimes I just want to blow my brains out and dance until the sun comes up. Other times… I just want to meet somebody."_

Bingo, _Kaiba thought, still a tad surprised by the shift the conversation had taken._

_ At least she seemed liberal – she didn't try to hide much._

_ He took a risk, going between the lines._

_ "And… do I turn you on?"_

_ How could he keep up his mask of ice when he was leading a discussion about something so…warm?_

_ Soraya smiled as the red conquered her cheeks._

_ "Yes, sir. A lot."_

_ Kaiba didn't bother trying to understand the more or less unusual attraction._

_ As serious as can be, he leaned towards her, his eyes more inquisitive than before._

_ "Why?"_

_ She looked shocked at the question. _

_ Apparently a woman didn't need to wait for a tender and romantic moment with a man like this one. That would only come in handy._

_ "It's 'cause…" she babbled awkwardly. "You're very… seductive, sir."_

_ "Really?" he asked as if he doubted it._

_ She ducked his eyes when she looked up, which were difficult to meet. She shook her head instead._

Scared?

_ "And how old are you?"_

_ "Nineteen, sir."_

_ At least he wasn't breaking any laws with a minor. Even though there hadn't been any risk, because all that they had been doing was talking._

_ However, Kaiba was absolutely not attracted to the girl. Something still wasn't right. Young. She was still too young._

_ A heavy thunking noise caused his attention to waver; it was a large glass being set down on the table._

_ Before him was now an enormous pint of beer._

_ When he looked up, he saw the waitress – quite plenteous – who was grinning at him cattily. She was blonde, thin, and her bra couldn't hide practically any of her 'secret charms'. Moreover, she seemed to be older, maybe thirty, it seemed to him._

_ But it was then what she told him that captured his attention completely._

_ "Why not come join the big leagues?" _

The big leagues? What the –

_ But he didn't have the time to ask her the question as she had already whipped around to walk away._

_ Except, under the glass that she had placed in front of him, was a small scrap of paper._

_ He hurriedly picked it up and unfolded it to read:_

Coat room. Five minutes. Present for you

What the hell did that mean?

_Kaiba sat there stupefied for several seconds, time to ask himself every question imaginable._

_ "That will be all," he told Soraya, treating her as coldly as if she were one of his housemaids._

_ The young girl seemed visibly shaken at how the situation had suddenly flopped._

_ Confused and embarrassed, she stood to leave the table as he stood himself to leave._

_ But his footsteps took him to the coat room, where he had to clarify this dilemma. He wasn't the type of man to back down from a threat. He hadn't taken the intrusion lightly and he certainly wasn't going to work himself up over instilling the blonde with some manners._

_ Hurriedly, he was moving through the hallway towards the coat room and had just arrived at the door when he felt himself be grabbed by the coat and whipped inside._

_ He was so stunned that he barely realized that he had been cornered up against a wall. The only thing he had time to notice was two large blue eyes staring him in the face. Far too near._

_ What the…?_

_ Kaiba was about to react and push his assailant promptly backwards when he recognized the large-chested blonde he just saw as she united their bodies._

_ "What is the meaning of this?" he snapped imperiously._

_ "Calm down, Mr. Kaiba," she cooed. "It's your birthday, if I'm not mistaken…"_

_ So what?_

_ Kaiba's heart began to beat faster when he felt a strong straining against his inner leg; she had purposefully put her hand over his member and was having fun vigorously rubbing it._

Is this assau-….she didn't…I can't…grr…

_ But Kaiba's thoughts violently came to a halt as his mind now began to try to assimilate the new very pleasurable sensations that his body was telling him about. A shiver of excitement rocketed down his back._

_ "Hm… what do we have here… how interesting," she continued, exploring farther above the thick tent forming in Kaiba's pants._

_ It was up to him to stop this and put an end to this game._

_ Push her back. Violently, if necessary._

_ After all, it was self-defense, right?_

_ All of this had always come across to him as disgusting. It brought being human to its most primitive state. It was inconceivable that such a strong man with such genius could even imagine one day – _

_ "Kiss me, Mr. Kaiba," she breathed, visibly controlled by a real desire for his person as she tried to place her lips on his._

_ Kaiba decided to not break the embrace despite the uncertainty holding his mind in its clenched fist. Something was making him continue the game, as revolting as it seemed._

_ "No," he responded darkly as her fingers groped the object she coveted._

Is this really what you want, you little strumpet?

You want to play?

Why not?

_Deep down, one day or another, he would end up doing this anyway, like any normal man._

_ Here, or later… now or never, it seemed._

_ He changed his mind to not push her away._

_ But why wasn't he nervous? It was as if everything came naturally to him._

_ He didn't need prior experience. Wasn't he Seto Kaiba? He did as he pleased and everything went fine. Too bad if she didn't like it._

_ It was his first time, sure. But she didn't know. No point in divulging that._

_ "Kiss me," she begged him again._

_ "I said no," he ordered her brusquely._

_ He would stick to that. Her touch there was absolutely unnecessary given the circumstances. He didn't like her. And he found no desire in particular for a woman of such low morals. Besides, he wasn't sure he'd find a day in his life that he'd desire anyone in particular anyway. He'd forcefully refuse what appeared to him to be dirtiest of acts._

_ The blonde wasn't offended by his refusal and actually went to turn around to grind her derriere into his already erect member to ramp up his desire to whip it out._

I'd hurt her… is that normal?

What's wrong with me?

Grr… I hate…

_"You got what it takes?" she asked unnervingly casually._

What it takes…?

_She was burning with the desire to feel Kaiba's member, if one considered her state of excitement and movement which was becoming increasingly suave and insistent as she continued to gyrate into him. Or maybe if she didn't, she could play the role extremely well._

_ "Okay," she said again._

_ She turned back around and fell to her knees in front of him._

_ "Let me…" she murmured as she pulled down Kaiba's pants to mid-thigh and begin to lick his intimate parts._

Grrr…the bi-….this is disg-…

_It was true, all of this felt extraordinary. It was also true that normally he would have thrown her onto the floor and trampled on her as he stormed out. Most of all, normally, she never would have succeeded in laying her pinkie finger on him._

_ But his was no ordinary night._

_ Seto Kaiba was about to, in the fullest sense, become a man._

_ She wanted to feel him. Actually feel him hard, without presentation, without warning. Fuck whether he liked it or not._

_ She began to cover his member with a transparent film of her saliva._

_ It was true that he was becoming excited – or at least his member, which seemed to be acting completely independently from his mind._

_ But still no sign of nervousness._

_ Slowly, she let her panties fall along with her short black skirt, and, dragging him with her, she laid back facing him on top of a desk, opening her legs so that he could fuck her._

_ He was about to do so when he met her eyes again; which stopped him for a fraction of a second._

Grrr…

_He wasn't about to do that. He wouldn't let her watch him._

_ "I have a better idea," he intoned coldly._

_ All the same, with a certain delicate touch, he took her arms and made her stand back off of the desk._

_ "Turn around."_

_ "What?"_

_ "I said turn around," he insisted, hoping to keep the discussion as brief as possible._

_ She probably only saw it as only a particular amusement or habit of his. She didn't know anything. But she wouldn't dare disobey his orders._

_ So she turned her back to him in one flowing movement, and he lay her body back down on the table._

Now or never… let's see just how this all actually works… besides, she asked for it…

_ So, after a brief moment of hesitation, he placed his penis in her vagina. First carefully, a comfortable entrance – which won him a shiver that he analyzed as pleasurable._

_ Then, he began, without thinking, moving in and out quite forcefully, as if he were afraid of not touching the far end._

_ "Be careful," she managed to say between breaths. "It's more painful this way… pay attention, okay?"_

_ But how did she have any say in this? Hadn't this been what she had wanted from the outset?_

_ Of course a feeling of power was now animating his body even further. The urge to control did not just simply become absent at that particular moment of time._

_ "Wait… let me roll over – "_

_ "No!" he said again, ramming into her once more harshly than before._

_ The woman shivered and sighed again, but this time he picked up a certain expression of pain._

_ Kaiba wasn't so drunk he was going to brutalize her. Even if she had asked for it._

_ After all, wasn't he simply agreeing to her demands? Why the brutality?_

_ He didn't want to see her face; he found no need to. It was a face like any other. A face that would unquestionably make him remember something far from the simple nourishing satisfaction of his professional successes: shame._

_ He had to keep his selfishness. So he accepted it. It was the guiding light in whatever he did._

_ Anyway he didn't like her and didn't owe her anything. Not even respect._

_ Plus, she shouldn't have to bother reading the uncertainty and complete ignorance of using a female body that was written all over his face._

_ He would keep his state of mind to himself._

_ But he began to slow down the movements. There was no need to hurt her, even if whatever she might feel didn't crack his marble exterior._

_ His hands surprised him by latching on to the woman's hips with a disconcerting expertise, as if he had known what he was doing, as if he didn't feel himself rapidly trying to calculate everything._

_ It was nice, of course. But ecstasy was not in his dictionary. It was just nice. Nothing more. _

_ On the other hand she seemed to be adapting to Kaiba – whose movement was now regular and controlled – as she began to unite her grinding to his pounding._

_ Her fingers rapidly went back down to fondle his pubic region, provoking an instant wave of pure pleasure. Kaiba's vigilant eye didn't miss the chance to add this to the mental notes he had already been taking._

_ He was inside of her for doubtless a very long time. Sufficiently long enough for him to experience his first orgasm after she had already had hers, at least in his opinion, because he remembered having felt her suddenly constrict her vagina around his member, crying out in satisfaction and writhing her body more feverishly and convulsively._

_ As soon as his own was finished, Kaiba quickly pulled out and looked at his penis as if it were a new gardening tool, something for which he had found a new use._

_ "Woah… you're pretty hung."_

_ "Save the spiel for someone else," he snapped as he wiped himself off with a handkerchief he took out of his pocket before quickly re-clothing himself._

_ His curiosity was whetted. He didn't need to waste any more of his precious time._

_ She appeared to want to keep acting catty._

_ "My name is Jai-"_

_ "I don't care," he interrupted her emotionlessly._

_ The conversation died._

_ What else was she waiting for? He hadn't anything to add._

_ After all, he was strikingly handsome. And it had come in handy for once. Besides, he was certain that she didn't doubt it either._

_ And that was what was most important._

_ Never would Kaiba pass for an amateur. With anyone, under any and all circumstances._

_ He lacked tact, however, when he pulled a checkbook and pen out of his coat and scrawled something on the first page._

_ Then he held the paper out to her, arrogantly muttering:_

_ "Here. Even if you don't deserve it."_

_ She practically flinched upon seeing the amount of money on the check. _

_ He had just signed over a thousand dollars over to her._

_ Before her crestfallen expression, which he managed to glimpse at a rapid glance, he tried again._

_ "Not enough for you?"_

_ This time, she ripped the piece of paper in half, as if she were offended by a terrible insult._

_ "I am not what you believe me to be – "_

_ "Fine," he snapped, purposefully cold. "Don't expect anything else, though."_

_ "Maybe I should tell you that – "_

_ "Don't be scared, I'm just paying you for your services," he interrupted her._

_ He didn't wait for her reaction, however, storming out of the room and leaving her stupefied in his wake._

_ He only had one desire right now, a very urgent one: clean himself._

_ He was going to spend hours underneath the showerhead, the time necessary for him to try to disinfect his body from the filth of the experience._

_ It was moreover the time he needed to forget the embarrassment of having stooped so low to such a primitive need._

_ He was a man, maybe, sure. But a man beyond the ordinary._

_ He would never forget that._

. . . . . . . . .

Naomi was still sleeping soundly.

Kaiba took a long moment to contemplate her body, her face, lost in the distant throes of his conscience, a soft, almost confused smile on his lips the entire time.

It was crazy just how much he had changed.

* * *

Last chapter coming up next! (err, two months late. Cough...)


	27. Chapter 27

I freely admit that I have suffered from the horrible yet common writer's disease called _I-promised-updates-and-then-life-started-and-then-it-took-me-months-to-finish-this-story-itis_. I'll stop promising that it will get better; however, I have finally pulled through and finished my translation of Melzart's story _Appearances_. First an(other) apology to her, but hopefully she'll understand the disease just as well as I do, and to any readers who believed my 'it will get better' diatribes. But enough of this.

Enjoy the last chapter of a story that took quite a while to finally end up finishing. Funnily enough, the story leaves lots of potential plot points unanswered, but I guess you'll have to fill in the blanks... for now :)

Yugioh belongs to Kazuki Takahashi, and the story _Appearances _belongs to Melzart.

* * *

Chapter 27

_The Horrible Hobgoblin _

Then Naomi had awoken; she could do nothing against the past that had not ceased to haunt her until then.

The sun pierced through the coldness outside to warm the bedroom.

And it was odd. Odd how her entire being was now resting in an abnormal state of semi-quietude, as if she had raised the white flag.

Well before she opened her eyes and feeling the sudden flood of light, it was simple words – calming her soul with the sweet music which took her out of the arms of Orpheus. It was the almost inaudible tapping of Kaiba's fingers upon his laptop.

_There is, when I refuse to say I love you, more love than there is any poem, any amount of words. If you see me shed a bohemian tear, which came to my eyes from my heart, it is because I am thinking of you…_

_ It's like that, happiness isn't geometric, I don't have any plans for you, I don't know how to do it walking straight… _

_ Don't say you want me if I can't promise you anything - it's because I want everything, perhaps, and I will not suffer. Step by step, I speak blindly, I fear all of those words regaining their colour when I ask you them. And I see the dreams hesitating again to mold to the outline of your body. And I smile despite myself - until now, I thought I knew myself a little. I threw everything out the window to better understand myself in your arms…_

_ Give me the time to love you without thinking beyond,_

_ You smile at me and fall silent, yet you don't understand_

_ Give me the time to find my footprints _

_ Because I forced you to look, I'm a tad scared of myself_

_ Scared of myself… it's not anything else_

_ You tame, I submit_

_ The faded shadows behind me_

_ Fear of what? Fear of the future which slides between my skin and my desire when I lose myself on the edge with you. _

_ Fear of what? Very simply, to recognize that everything is here, maybe, and that they are falling around you.*_

Seto had also been up for a short period of time, never having developed the ability to sleep for long periods of time. He hadn't lost, however, the ability to work like a maniac on his damn portable PC which he drug around everywhere as if it were his car keys. However, he hadn't managed to distance himself from her, seated as he was at some sort of improvised desk at the foot of the desk, glancing at her every now and then, personally assuring himself that her sleep would not be obscured by any dark clouds.

Then the little harsh noises, almost inaudible, stopped as she opened her eyes, Kaiba setting his PC a bit farther back upon the surface of the desk before getting up to approach his own side of the bed that he had left a few hours previously.

He wouldn't miss the opening of her eyes upon the new day that was beginning for the world.

And then the smile. Peaceful, somehow, mutual although neither knew why.

"Sleep well?" he breathed as he bent affectionately over her face to kiss her forehead.

The question which stood in for the most pure of ways of saying 'hello' did not have to be clarified, which made her smile even wider, knowing that paradise could not be softer or more beautiful than opening her eyes upon that magnificent being.

Without missing a beat she wrapped her arms around his neck, bringing him against her in a tender accolade which was soon reciprocated as Kaiba placed his hands on her hips and pulled her out of the covers, lifting her against him.

"Yes, thanks," she said.

_There is, when I refuse to say I love you, more love than there is any poem…_

Kaiba redoubled his ardor in holding her against him. All the better if he managed to make her forget, albeit modestly, her worst memories, and bring her the slightest sense of happiness.

In his eyes, nothing had as high a price as making her happy.

"It's quarter to eleven, still time to eat breakfast," he said quietly, although he wasn't exactly hungry.

_You are my only food, I hunger only for you… _she thought as she politely wriggled her way out of his grip.

"Really?" he asked as he managed to look her in the eye.

Visibly she had forgotten for several seconds that Kaiba had heard, as he had always, her most secret thoughts. And the question clearly indicated to her that he had, once again, followed her train of thought.

With an almost thrilling rush of bashfulness, she surprised herself at the violence with which she reddened.

"Hmmm…" he murmured as he once again took her back into his grip, touched by the sincere belief she had expressed.

She couldn't help a confused grin from blossoming over her lips.

"We have the same favorite food," he whispered as he leaned in to kiss her again.

She felt as if she could faint again. As if she could no longer fight it like she had before. As if she would never be able to fend off again in the days to come.

Strangely, destiny, or luck, had decided that there was indeed a future written out for her, although she knew none of its promises. Actually, there was one that she was indeed sure about – that, in the brightest star in the sky that she could see, His Name was deeply engraved in brilliant letters. She couldn't see beyond it.

But who cared, as nobody could see beyond it.

And it was already more than enough; the thickest fog dissipated in the arms of Seto Kaiba.

"What's wrong?"

"I'm scared. And I have been for too long," she responded without daring to look at him.

Naomi had finally gotten up, gotten ready, dressed in her eternal choice of the colour black, her grief still not about to leave her. But something had changed in her behavior. A determination, a wild determination.

She seemed lost in the void beyond the windowpane as she saw, for the last time, little Molina, with whom she was so infatuated. Didn't she make her remember her own daughter?

All of those long months egotistically hoping that nobody would show any interest in adopting her, in distancing the two of them. And it had finally happened. A guy. That guy. And she hadn't done anything to stop it. Worse, she hadn't seen him come with his fake manners filled with such a cruel variety of courtesy.

Instead, she had used the last second to flee, far from Seto and far from the grief, which had only roared back even more maliciously when she found herself again in her native country.

She wouldn't have said it. But there, on the frozen earth at the foot of the oak tree, she had wanted to die. Of cold.

If it hadn't been for Seto, maybe she would have succeeded.

_Et voila. _He was there now. And things seemed to be on track to ameliorating. His mere presence would of course never suffice to bring back her daughter. But it was, at least, a salve for the heart. Everything that he had done when he had already known the truth he had done for her alone. And he was there. Always there. And everything came flooding back into her memory – how could anyone have guessed, or known, how he had done what he had?

How to struggle against the evidence? He wasn't ready to let go.

He had come to take her with him.

And so she would return.

It was too late to save Alexandra, deceased for four long years already.

But it wasn't too late for Molina.

Yes, she would return, knowing she would have to roll up her sleeves and work even harder. She was going to fight tooth and nail to take her back, out of the trap which never should have caught her.

"Scared?" Kaiba repeated, trying to analyze her thoughts.

"I should have stayed… and fought."

_Molina? Is she thinking about Molina?_

Kaiba's face told her that he hadn't understood her exactly. But he would have sworn, on the contrary, to have understood the meaning of her words far too well.

"Seto… if that guy…"

But she momentarily stopped herself, believing it useless to burden him with any further torment. This was a personal fight that she shouldn't discuss with him; she should keep all of it to herself. Seto had already done enough. Plus he probably had lots on his to-do list. Better not to add to it.

"I think he's dangerous."

"I'll deal with it," he reassured her.

"No… you don't understand – "

_Yes I do! I understand fine._

"… I couldn't do anything for M-… but…"

This time Kaiba stepped in front of her, softly laying his hands upon her shoulders, thus obligating her to look at him.

"Stop, Naomi! Don't you think you've suffered enough?"

She shook her head, demonstrating her refusal to forget, to pardon herself.

"Naomi," he whispered.

His features hardened.

"If you want to fight, I'm there with you! You can ask anything of me. But… just stop this now!"

_Fine._

He was right.

Especially at the outset of a battle, it was no time to pity oneself on one's bad luck, not the time to show one's weakness and be frightened. On the contrary. She had to ramp up the ardor and wield any and all aggressiveness which could influence her adversary. Show them all of her boldness. Not let on the damage that they had caused her, the gravest being to the heart.

But she wasn't going to inform Kaiba of this; this battle she would do alone, without his help.

Suddenly she felt herself straighten, more determined than ever, although the menace which roiled between the two Kaiba brothers which she could still sense still hung in the air.

"You have a strategy?"

Kaiba gave her a sarcastic smile.

In reality, he hadn't one, principally due to his ignorance about their newfound enemy. But the knowledge would come to him.

What disgusted him consisted of the half-obligation to comply to the man's demands and return his prisoner to him. Somehow or other, and now that Naomi knew, he had no choice but to submit. It was true that his heart lifted at the sole thought of remembering his promise to make that vermin endure the worst possible torment until the end of time, however.

Now he couldn't keep that promise any longer.

So be it.

He would fight now, too.

Yes, in the heart of that country of snow, Naomi had finally opened her eyes.

. . . . . . . . .

"From here, we'll be able to see the whole town," she murmured to Seto and Mokuba.

Naomi had selected a particular restaurant for dinner. She had only been there once before. And as the place had left an indelible mark on her memory, she had brought them along this time, hoping they would be equally impressed with the view.

The restaurant and bar– the Astral, as it was called - was one of the best gastronomical and touristy experiences of the city; it was on the top floor of the Concorde Hotel, 600 feet** in the air and featured both the ability to turn three-hundred sixty degrees and bay windows around the circumference of the room. In this way, while tasting the succulent food the restaurant had to offer, clients also had the ability to see the entire city, their eyes able to lose themselves amongst tens of miles of views all around as the restaurant slowly turned to show them both the river cutting through the heart of the town and the mountains in the distance beyond. And the evening was no less magnificent due to the luminosity of the panorama.

Of course, Seto was not exactly impressed, although the view pleased him to such an extent that he wouldn't let himself show it. On the other hand, Mokuba expressed a much more pronounced enthusiasm, still under the discreet amused grin of his older sibling.

Naomi had dealt with everything up until then, and now all that was left was to order off the menu or select the buffet, whichever tickled the Kaibas' fancy.

"_Madame… messieurs_," the server nodded in greeting as he walked towards their table. "Have you chosen your menu? Would you like a drink?"

Naomi smiled at him while giving him the signal to wait momentarily, giving herself time to translate, as the language barrier prevented the two brothers from personally asking what they would like to eat.

She turned back towards them, mouth already open, but she shut it in shock as she heard Kaiba's voice speak up.

"_Je vais prendre un café pour commencer…"_

Naomi froze in her chair; Seto Kaiba was speaking in perfect French! How could it be that she had never before heard him speak a single word of it?

Stupefied, she stared at him as he continued.

"Mokuba?"

He decided upon a soft drink.

"And," Seto continued in French and well aware of how shocked Naomi was, "_mademoiselle?_" He could barely contain a self-satisfied smirk.

"Coffee please," she responded, still too astonished to know precisely how to react.

"Good," Seto said. "Come back in a few minutes."

As Naomi waited for the server to leave, she noticed that she wasn't the only one aghast at the table – Mokuba was staring at his brother with large eyes.

"Seto!" he nearly shouted, extremely proud of his brother.

Kaiba's smile burst forth, and he looked at Naomi impatiently, anxious to hear her verdict.

She tilted her head, herself proud and deeply impressed, but above all, ashamed that she had never searched for such a skill before in the arsenal of the powerful CEO.

It was crazy how much Kaiba loved her confused smile.

"So…" she nearly whispered in her native tongue, "may I know exactly how long you've known French?"

"A couple of months…"

_A couple of months? What? Is he mocking me?_

"I learn very quickly," was all the excuse he gave.

_What?_

Could it be that he had even learned the language during the period of time that they had known each other? Did he do it just to surprise her at some point in time? Even with all the work that he dealt with for his company, had he taken the time to so assiduously learn such a difficult language?

Apparently so, given the evidence. And she felt even more proud than before.

Always, it was for her. What other reason was there?

She sighed lightly, this time greatly moved by the amount of generosity that Kaiba had exhibited. His eyes were still trained upon her.

"...And…" she continued, "…Do you have any other surprises in store for me?"

This time Seto leaned towards her so that he could whisper in her ear.

"It's very possible, I'm afraid."

His smile – which was already beginning to show – let her mind run wild. Maybe there were even to be things she had never expected.

All the better if this major distraction – like all the rest to follow – succeeded a little in making her forget the bad days, horrid moments in her existence.

. . . . . . . . .

In a shanty bar in a poor part of town, a man already drunk off of several beers was busying himself with flirting with the barmaid as she set down another pint in front of him. He apparently had the quite annoying habit of reaching for the butt of any waitress who had the misfortune of skirting by him. A dirty man, but a regular customer.

So much so that one could potentially believe he lived inside of it.

But the thing that was beginning to harass the employees above all else was the arrogant, almost aggressive manner in which he addressed them. None had dared to interact with him on a personal level since one of them had found herself stalked and almost attacked after her shift was complete. Of course, as there had been no other witnesses, the young woman had feared for her life. Little would have stopped him from possibly continuing into sexual territory if someone hadn't shown up and helped her call the cops. The furious boss hadn't pressed charges but instead decided to give him a second chance, and he now menacingly watched over the moves he made.

It was a night like any other until the arrival of several men dressed completely in black, sunglasses shadowing their eyes despite the lack of light in the place, and physically built like armoires.

It had already been several seconds since they had interrupted the normal activity in the bar.

The fact that they looked like police had had such an impact on the staff that they did nothing upon their entry but suddenly fall utterly silent.

The man was reaching again towards the posterior end of another waitress when he suddenly felt himself be brusquely lifted out of his seats by one of the brutish suits.

He wouldn't place his hand on anybody else that night.

Oddly, as if they were in synchronization, none of the men said a word as the looked at the man; they didn't even bother scanning the other customers for someone who might forcefully wish to accompany him.

It was obvious: they were here to snatch him away. Nobody else. And that's what they did as they left out the back door of the bar, and moved into the alley behind it.

The man barely had time to step down off the final stair before he was violently thrown into the concrete wall in front of him.

"Looks like you like to brutalize women," said one of them spitefully, spitting in the man's face and then slapping him hard.

And it was there, in that deplorable little alleyway where nobody would normally dare ever adventure, that he received the most pain he had felt in his entire life.

He was literally floating in a pool of his own blood when a hand yanked his hair, sopping wet from the viscous fluid.

Then, before blacking out, one of the men – the same from before – crouched down to show him a photograph.

"This is for the little girl."

He again received an avalanche of kicks, probably cracking the majority of his ribs, leaving him so bruised over his entire body that he now knew that he was incapable of the slightest bit of movement, even lifting a pinky finger.

Nobody would ever recognize him. Someone would eventually find him right where he deserved to be: in the trash.

. . . . . . . . .

Kaiba seemed so insistant upon scrutinizing the horizon that it seemed as if his eyes wanted to grab the entire city and hug it close to him.

"Where's the bathroom, Nao?" Mokuba asked.

"Oh, it's over there by the door, remember?"

"Of course I do!" he said, laughing childishly. "It's just…"

His eyes lingered on the platform, still slowly rotating. But the absurd idea of losing them upon leaving the room still wouldn't get out of his head.

Naomi saw his worries with no difficulty whatsoever. Hadn't even she thought the same thing the first time that she had come to this restaurant?

A soft smile spread across her lips.

"Don't worry, it's impossible to lose you. We'll still be here."

His response was a stupefied grin that then turned to one which showed his own annoyance at his ignorance.

His need driving him forward, he didn't waste any further time walking towards the center of the circle.

From Kaiba's left sleeve came a very discrete blip, a signal he had a new message. Upon investigation he found only four letters: DONE.

"Thank you," Naomi murmured, suddenly pulling him out of his concentration.

"For what?" he asked as his head rose to look in her direction, taken by the fear that she should comment on his lack of attention.

Very affectionately, her mouth closed in on his ear.

"You do good things for me," she breathed before distancing herself once more.

Neither one of the two was very demonstrative of their emotions in public. Thus each respected the other's personal space, keeping their intimacy for when they were alone.

Kaiba's returning smile was quite frank. Everything was going well now. And Naomi was here. Even better, she would be staying.

Why was there that sudden desire to kiss her, ignoring the shocked or angered glares that would result?

Again Kaiba had to fight against himself to not give in to his desires, and, having perceived something in particular several seconds earlier, got up to leave the table.

"I'll be back in a few minutes," he said as he turned to walk away.

He came back, however, even before Mokuba had. Naomi had barely begun to look out the large window beside her when he sat back down again.

"You _really _want to make me happy?" he breathed, leaning in towards her.

"Um… maybe?" she responded, not knowing what he was about to ask of her.

A large stride or two away from their table, in the middle of the restaurant – the only part of the place that wasn't spinning – Kaiba had noticed a large black piano, and as someone had begun to play it to add some sort of atmosphere or distract the clientele, he had allowed himself to ask if Naomi could take the stage, if even for one song.

Even if he had never said anything beforehand, he liked her voice, the same one that had succeeded in capturing his full attention ever since the very first night that he saw her.

Moreover, it seemed like an eternity to him since she had sung anything. Too long.

"You want to sing?"

"What?"

Seto Kaiba asked her to sing? He _asked _her? This request alone was enough to somewhat disconcert her – as if, just like always, he could read into the depths of her soul and knew better than anyone her most primary of desires.

"No…but…er…" she babbled, conscious that she hadn't sung a single note in months.

Seto hurried to reassure her.

"Yeah, it'll be fun, I'm sure of it."

That ended the conversation.

During the next intermission, Mokuba came back towards them and Naomi stood to take center-stage on the platform that was so cramped it could only hold a piano and its bench.

"What's she doing?" Mokuba asked as he watched her take a seat.

"I think it's time you learned a little more about your sister-in-law's talents," Seto remarked contentedly.

_Sister-in-law?_

Both seemed surprised by the sudden use of the term.

Mokuba's smile exploded across his face while Seto, realizing that he had said too much, hid his own by bowing his head.

She hadn't even opened her mouth and there was already a furied talk. Envious looks, also, which indiscreetly stared at her but which Kaiba chose to take no offense towards. After all, wasn't he the one that sent her there?

Even if he didn't speak the language, he would have easily understood their words, avid with desire, hoping to more than visually explore her thin frame.

Which, while subjecting him to all possibly jealousy on his own part, gave him a certain pride in being the only one to whom it belonged.

The show was now on, Naomi knew, as the spotlight fell upon her.

She sighed softly, principally due to the provoked nervousness inside of her after not having performed in so long. Also, if she dared to admit it, due to the fact that Kaiba had made the demand out of nowhere.

But when she thought about it… maybe, most of all, it was due to her feelings, woven into the song that she had chosen to sing.

Then the piano came to life under the musician's fingers.

"_He drowns in his dreams_

_An exquisite extreme I know_

_He's as damned as he seems_

_More heaven than a heart could hold_

_And if I tried to save him_

_The whole world would cave in _

_Just ain't right, no it just ain't right_

_Oh and I don't know _

_I don't know what he's after_

_But he's so beautiful, he's such a beautiful disaster_

_And if I could hold on through the tears and the laughter_

_Would it be beautiful...or just a beautiful disaster?"_

There was no doubt in Kaiba's mind at this point that the song was chosen to personally address him, given the smile they were sharing as she sang; tender, yet simultaneously discreet.

Eyes peeled, and aware that the moment was far more personal for both Seto and Naomi than anyone else in the room could understand, Mokuba sat in admiration of her sensual yet powerful voice.

He was not alone in melting under her graces; everyone in the room was beginning to stand and crowd towards her and her song.***

_"He's magic and myth_

_As strong as what I believe_

_A tragedy with_

_More damage than a soul should see_

_And do I try to change him_

_So hard not to blame him_

_Hold me tight...baby hold me tight_

_Oh and I don't know_

_I don't know what he's after_

_But he's so beautiful_

_He's such a beautiful disaster_

_And if I could hold on_

_Through the tears and the laughter_

_Would it be beautiful...or such a beautiful disaster?"_

The mere thought, each time, made her smile almost nostalgically as a flood of memories came over her, from when they first met to the diverse dangers that had threatened them and ostensibly continued to brew right under their noses.

But the fact remained that Kaiba was a magnificent being, despite the circumstances, despite all appearances.

Kaiba refused to show the immense happiness he felt at being the addressee of such a song. Crazily, though, it touched him greatly. Crazily, he would do anything to be alone with her at this precise moment, his body desperately aching for her company.

_"He's soft to the touch_

_ But frayed at the ends he breaks_

_ He's never enough_

_ But he's still more than I can take…"_

But her stare, now suddenly returned, no longer left any room for doubt. Wasn't she in the middle of admitting her attraction to him, her profound respect and admiration?

Did he know, now, that she would follow him to the ends of the earth, against anything and everything?

Definitely. Yes, he knew.

_"He's so beautiful… he's beautiful…"_†

Is that what she thought of him, at least in part?

She hadn't even finished singing before the applause thundered throughout the room. Many of the patrons were hooting and calling out to her, something she wasn't even ready for, and she hastened to join the Kaiba brothers again.

. . . . . . . . .

Kaiba refused to leave that night, saying that one more night wouldn't change anything in the danger that faced them both; on the contrary, perhaps he felt more free in this country, both cold and brimming and warmth. Something completely beyond reach.

Besides, the bed had become so cozy since he had shared it with Naomi. Actually, no matter what the nation, it certainly wouldn't change the sensation of her against him. He did appreciate the peacefulness of the place, however.

Above all – and he had predicted this as well – Naomi had to confront the last of her demons before turning her life completely around as he took her with him.

It was not going to be the easiest to fight; he was conscious of that. But she had to. For her own good. For the good of them both.

Besides, wasn't he by her side?

. . . . . . . . .

It was sunny.

But the day was proving to be somber and would mark, Kaiba hoped, Naomi's seemingly interminable nightmares.

They would have to go back to the cemetery before leaving for a better future, more serene, more pleasant.

The idea to make Naomi forget her little girl had never crossed the CEO's mind. It was, after all, an impossible task. Even he would never have been capable of doing so, even with the greatest of superhuman forces that he often seemed to possess. It was equally the reason for which Kaiba had ordered, and largely continued to pay for, the white flowers that now decorated her tombstone, every day of every week. A gesture that, he again hoped, would touch Naomi's heart without invoking any memory in particular. Didn't the generosity come from sincere compassion, at any rate?

But that morning, on the way to the airport, something else was destined to occur.

As he didn't foresee that either one of them would soon return to this land of snow, he thought it good to make at least a decent goodbye.

He wisely waited until Naomi had gotten out of the car and had walked some distance into the graveyard before he climbed out himself. Quietly, he was going to stand behind her tree, very discretely. Just in case.

He knew she was fragile. And that was more than enough to worry him.

Especially now.

. . . . . . . . .

Why had Seto insisted upon her return here?

Nothing had changed since the last time she had been here, two days earlier. And a soft snow was again falling onto the frozen earth.

But something was no longer the same.

Something that looked to her like footprints in the snow, apparently freshly made. They were even accompanied by very small red blotches, scattered here and there around the tombstone. As if someone had waited there longer than was strictly necessary.

Carefully, she bent down to examine one of the red spots and easily recognized it to be blood. The person was somehow hurt; she needed no diploma to figure that one out.

But why had Seto insisted _so much _that she come back?

"Naomi…" murmured a dark voice behind her, paralyzing her on the spot as she immediately recognized to whom the voice belonged.

Without any sudden movement, she slowly stood, but did not turn around to look at the nightmare, the phantom.

Richard.

And then all of the horrible memories flooded back into Naomi's mind, and she held her breath now, as if already expecting the abuse.

It was so far away. But it was weird how everything had broiled back up to the surface.

Frozen in fear, she began to tremble, her eyes tearing up as if she had been flung back in time and she had once again become that young, defenseless girl.

"Filthy bitch… I finally found you… after all these years," he continued.

She still didn't turn around. She could do anything but look at him.

_You're just a ghost… you'll disappear… just disappear… _she repeated to herself, shaking like a leaf, a tear beginning to roll down one of her cheeks.

Behind the tree, Kaiba balled his fists in rage. He hadn't left her life the previous night because of this – the final confrontation he knew to be unavoidable.

But why couldn't he deal with him himself?

From this distance, he could feel all of Naomi's terror and distress, and she hadn't moved, suddenly oh so vulnerable.

But she was so strong.

_…if you touch her… I'll kill you with my bare hands._

Trying to not close his eyes under the strength of the ire, he pleaded that she would at least react, even if he would never let the bastard cause her the slightest bit of harm.

"So… it's _your _friends who came to see me last night, you _cunt_," he hissed as he slowly approached her, despite his irresistible desire to jump upon her and beat her until she pissed blood.

Just like the good old days.

And everything was ready, especially the solitude of the place, which he obviously wouldn't observe. Nobody was around. Nobody to help her.

Yeah. He would kill the mother above the grave of the child, ending his work. Besides, his life was over, having become nothing but a shadow amongst the masses. So why hold back? Why hold back on this _bitch _who had ruined his life but managed to escape so unharmed?

Was it difficult for her to breathe, fearing that he might touch her? Yes. Air was already no longer circulating in her lungs, condemning her to only gape instead of speak. Funny how she shook. With fear, and anger.

"You gonna look at me when I'm talking to you, bitch?" he shouted as his arm shot out towards Naomi in an attempt to whip her around.

In a reflex she ripped herself away from his grasp, despite the terror that had washed over her. But she had succeeded in doing this one thing – a sign that the martial arts lessons had doubtlessly done a number on her.

_I'm gonna kill him… kill him… kill him… _Kaiba thought, barely restraining himself from walking out from behind the tree and marching right up to him.

But he was suddenly relieved when he saw her dodge his gesture.

It was nothing less than pure torture to not be able to fight in her place and chase the demon away forever. He would know exactly what to do.

But he had to wait to see the results. To know if she was strong enough to fight.

Maybe it wasn't his own fight, but Seto was ready for anything. He would never permit that animal to harm her. He had done so much already.

So thus Kaiba feared for the worst. He understood too well Naomi's current fragility in the face of her troubling past which had without warning sprung back up in front of her.

If he had been able to avoid this 'encounter' – he would have been able – they would have returned to Japan with the doubt in his mind that she still was hiding demons deep inside of her; ones that would be ready to surge out at any time, at the opening of a door or at the drop of a word. It was why he had deliberately pushed her to fight back.

Maybe, he thought, it was the greatest thing he could have done for her.

If only the fear would flee, for just an instant, he wouldn't worry as much.

Naomi had finally turned around, more by the order that she had been given than the will to see his destructive person; she wiped her face rapidly, conscious that otherwise it would be to show him weakness.

She was still shaking, and her eyes were trained to the ground.

Why had Seto put her in this painful, horrid situation?

"You spoiled my life! You're nothing but the dirty piece of shit who killed my daughter!" He shrieked as he began to walk towards her.

_His daughter? His daughter? What right does he have to –_

"Gah! I have nothing but disgust for the dirty fucker that you – "

_WHAM!_

Naomi had at least found the courage to hit him so hard he fell back a few feet.

She had begun the fight. Maybe it was what he had been waiting for. He rushed towards her.

_No! The bastard - ! _

Kaiba felt like a seething volcano, unable to digest all of the insults that she herself had managed to withstand.

It was not difficult to understand just how badly she had been treated beforehand.

But then a reaction that he hadn't been expecting practically made him jump and doubt any idea that he had had that this would be a good idea.

Naomi had started to run like a madwoman, prey for a predator who remained more or less on her heels.

_Good god… Do something, Naomi! You're stronger than this…grrr.. Naomi! _Kaiba thought, almost at the verge of giving up hope.

Roland, waiting near the car, seemed to show an equal amount of repugnance at the scene and seemed to want to try to help somehow in the dramatic spectacle. Kaiba shot him a signal to stay back and not move.

_Grrr… he doesn't have any control over you… kill him if you want… just do something, Naomi! _

The cry of Kaiba's heart, torn between the urgent need to protect her and to let her act alone, perhaps was secretly heard – she stopped running, and finally turned to face her adversary.

"Enough!" she burst out. "Stay away from me!"

_Seto! Seto!... I know that you're there… I know nothing can happen to me if… _

Her face, before so frightened, was now flushed in the color of rage as she stopped him in his élan with a solid punch to the face, stunning him for a few moments.

And as predicted - she knew him all too well - the red tinge to her face darkened, developing into a fury. She wasn't about to stop there.

She might have hit him harder this time, but it wasn't enough to knock him down.

"You filthy _whore_!" he roared as he raised his hand to backhand her again. The maneuver, followed by each swipe in succession, she avoided by ducking from left to right, like some sort of boxer.

But it was amazing how terrified she was despite the appearances. So much so she was even asking herself how she could be reacting so fast.

Her body would not allow her to take even a single hit.

No more than her soul would allow itself to be soaked once more in another splash of blood.

And Kaiba wasn't too far away; she knew that.

"I hate you!" she screeched, hitting him with a powerful kick backed by the force of her anger.

This time he fell backwards into the snow, only to just as quickly clamber back up.

"Looks like you've learned how to defend yourself a little, bitch."

This time Naomi would not accept the slightest insult.

The times had changed.

"You have no fucking idea, you bastard," she snapped back as she readied her next blow, more determined than ever to finish this once and for all.

"Come on, get up! Get up!" she continued to shout, kicking him in the face as he struggled to stand again. "You wanna fight? Get up and come get some, you piece of _shit_!"

Seto audibly sighed behind the tree, calm once again inhabiting him. He was convinced that she could pull through now, that the worst was in the past.

What he had dreamed of for months he finally saw before his very eyes: the realization of this very sweet revenge.

"I said _get up_, you _motherfucker!_ You like a fight? I'm right here! I'm waiting!"

He tried desperately to touch her but never succeeded - Naomi, her body completely awash in outrage, was too strong, and her eyes saw not him but the infamous night where her daughter had been ripped out of her arms by the groveling heap of a man now at her mercy.

She hit him on all sides, and could have killed him from the sheer force behind her blows.

He had been brought down to Earth, and could hardly move any longer.

She found no pity for him.

A new kick, this time in the side.

"You like that?" she roared as she both violently attacked him and asked him if he enjoyed her returning the favor.

The kicks continued to rain down upon her victim; there was no doubt that she was letting loose years of bridled up horror and suffering. Even her face had been contorted beyond recognition by the hatred.

But then two firm arms suddenly began to hold her back, stopping her from taking further advantage of the man on the ground.

Kaiba.

"Shhh… shhh… it's okay… it's over…"

She wanted to keep on accosting the bloodied thing sprawled in the snow. But Kaiba fought back, tearing her away and bringing her back with him.

"Look at me, Naomi… look at the bastard…" he whispered, trying to calm her. "He'll never hurt you again. Never. Just look at the man…"

This time Naomi managed to master her anger, there in Kaiba's arms, whose eyes were firmly trained on the detestable man. He wouldn't deny that he'd love to hit him himself if he were to try to stand. But Naomi was beginning to breathe in a slightly more controlled manner, and that was more important.

"You knew about him… too?" she managed to say.

"Yes."

Quietly, she separated herself from Kaiba and walked past him, heading back towards the limousine. She then stopped.

"Thank you," she managed.

Then she kept on walking. She had defeated the worst of her demons, proving that she no longer feared him. That never again would they find themselves on the same path, and it was to remain like that for good.

"Don't mention it…" Kaiba said, a half-smile on his lips.

He waited until she was some distance away before approaching the victim and bestowing upon him his final verdict.

"As for last night, that was me, you filthy pest. If I left you alive, it's only so that you'll remember."

More contemptuously than ever, Kaiba spat in his face and then bludgeoned him with a firm kick in the gut. The man contorted in pain even further.

Then he left the scene.

Naomi was safe.

Naomi was better now.

They could finally live a bit more at peace – she had conquered her old demons, and that had been Kaiba's most ardent of wishes.

And yet so many things were waiting for them upon their return to Japan.

Yes. So many things.

Other battles.

Other demons.

* * *

*The song _Peur de Moi, _by Patrick Bruel, off of his album _Juste Avant_, translated for reader's convenience.

**Original story claimed 185m, which is more like 606-607 feet. There is an Astral restaurant/Concorde hotel in Quebec, Quebec, Canada, hence the French which is spoken later in the chapter.

***Just mentioning, if it's a rotating restaurant, the crowd would be rotating around her, unless there was a crowd on all sides, or if the crowd continuously walks to stay in front of her. O_o this is weird.

† _Beautiful Disaster_, by Kelly Clarkson.


End file.
